Grey Eyed Glances
by ChildofDarkDefiance
Summary: She watched him walk by the bakery every day, her blue eyes staring intently at him as she tried to work up the courage to finally talk to him. WARNING, MALE!Katniss and FEMALE!Peeta. If you don't like that, then please don't read. My first story.
1. Prologue

**Hello everyone!**

**Well, I've been on this site for almost a year, and I had yet to publish a story, so I thought I'd give it a shot.**

**In this story, Katniss and Prim are MALE and Peeta and Gale are FEMALE. If you do not like that idea, then please do not read. I got the idea for this fic when a couple of my friends were arguing about how Peeta had more of the traditional "female" role in his relationship with Katniss, and it gave me an idea. Don't get me wrong, I love that the hero is female, but since this is fanFICTION I decided to have some fun.**

**This is my first story, so I really appreaciate it that you are taking the time to check this fic out. Reviews are welcome, but no flames/ hate please. Let me know how I can improve!**

**Thanks,**

**Lulu.**

**P.S. I don't own the Hunger Games, obviously. **

*****Updated Author's Note*****

**I edited this story and changed the Peeta and Katniss's names to Petra and Katnin (thanks to all of the reviewers who suggested names). I've also changed the spelling on Gale's name to Gaila, and I'm changing then end of Prim to Prin (not very creative, I know, but although she (he) is such an important character, she (he) doesn't actually show up much, especially from Peeta's point of view.) I'm going back and fixing the names on all of the chapters.**

The bakery door slammed shut behind her as she hurried inside, dropping her schoolwork on a nearby table. Her father and eldest brother were in the back room, finishing up the last batch of cookies for her to frost later. Thankfully, her mother was out, as was her other brother.

After a quick kiss on her father's cheek and a pinch stolen from one of the stale loaves of bread that would be dinner later, Petra hurried back to the front of the shop, presumably to rearrange the display tables and watch for customers before retiring to the small side room where she did all of her decorating. In actuality, she was watching out the window, as she did every day, waiting for a certain someone to pass by.

It didn't take long, and after a couple of minutes, Petra spotted the familiar dark hair and slight figure heading down the road. Katnin Everdeen, the boy that she had been in love with since she was five, was passing by the window where she stood, motionless, almost hidden by the cake display.

He was walking with his best friend, Gaila, an attractive girl who, like Katnin, had the dark hair and grey eyes that many people from the Seam shared. Although the sight of them together was normal, jealousy still burned deep in the pit of her stomach. As she watched, Gaila turned her head to flash one of her rare, dazzling smiles at Katnin, which he returned.

The pair was almost directly in front of where she stood frozen behind the glass. Suddenly, Katnin's grey eyes flicked towards the window, meeting Petra's blue ones for a split second. She flashed back to another time of meeting those eyes, back when they were filled with such hunger, pain, and sorrow that she had never known.

_The rain poured down in great sheets of water, casting a dreary grey pallor over the surrounding landscape. Petra was working at the ovens with her mother, a cold, harsh woman, when her mother glanced out the window to the backyard, eyes narrowing and mouth forming a hard, straight line at whatever it was that caught her attention outside. She stormed out the back door, yelling at someone, telling them to go away. _

_Petra peaked around the edge of the door, shocked to see Katnin Everdeen standing by the garbage can that he had been searching through moments before. His frightened, exhausted gaze met hers for a second, and she remembered that his father had recently died in a mining accident, leaving Katnin to care for his mother and younger brother. Even from several yards away, she could see how prominent his bones were, much too thin even for the typical harsh wintertime weight loss. _

_Making up her mind, Petra hurried back to the oven grabbing two loaves of bread and dropping them close to the flames. Her mother stormed back inside, and upon catching sight of the burning bread, grabbed a nearby rolling pin and striking her cheek with it. She thrust the bread into her arms, shoving her out the door while screaming, "Feed it to the pigs, you useless creature! No one decent will buy burned bread!" before stomping off to check on a customer, slamming the door angrily behind her._

_Petra stood in the rain, cheek throbbing, starting to rip the blackened chunks and throw them into the trough. She glanced over at Katnin, who was watching her warily from underneath the minimal shelter of a nearby tree. _

_Turning toward the pigs, she took a deep breath and tossed one loaf in Katnin's direction, closely followed by the second. She then hurried inside, not looking back until she was safely concealed behind the window._ _She looked outside just in time to see Katnin stuff the bread underneath his jacket and hurry down the road, his silhouette fading into the rain. _

_The next day at school, he glanced up at her from across the schoolyard. She quickly lowered her gaze, and the next time she looked up, he was plucking a dandelion from the thawing ground, a smile on his face for the first time in months._

The grey eyes no longer held the haunted look that she had seen before, and Katnin's body, although still too lean, no longer looked sickly.

As Katnin and Gaila passed, Katnin's eyes flicked back to the road so quickly that Petra wondered if she had imagined him ever meeting her eyes in the first place. Still, as she caught sight of her reflection in the glass, she couldn't help but notice the deep red blush that was spreading slowly across her face.


	2. Chapter One

**Ahh, thank you to everyone who took the time to check out last chapter! And thanks to my first reviewers, Erilane621 and Belena NothingFace. My first reviews ever! You made me smile like crazy :D**

**A couple of things that I should note:**

**One, I'm going away on vacation and won't be able to update this for at least a week, probably longer. I will try to get most of the writing done on the plane, so all I'll have to do is type it up when I return.**

**Two, I do not have a beta, so all of the editing is done by me and whatever spellcheck catches. Please forgive any minor mistakes.**

**Three, I'm horrible with technology. Whenever something breaks, my strategy is to press buttons until I can get whatever it is to work again. Sadly, I'm the best in my immediate family at fixing things. So I'm still working out the basics for how to use this site. I apologize if I make any mistakes that have something to do with the setup of this site.**

**Without further ado, I present to you the official first chapter of this fic!**

**~Lulu**

**I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_

The mild temperature and cheerful sunlight did not match the foreboding atmosphere that hung over District 12 as the time for the reaping drew closer.

Petra leaned closer to the cake she was working on, trying hard to steady her shaking hands as she put the final touches on a large frosted flower. Dread coiled in the pit of her stomach and the air around her seemed harder to breathe than usual, the coal dust that always hung faintly in the air drifting through the open door and clogging up her nose and lungs.

She slid the cake onto the back table and put away her tools before heading to her family's living space above the shop.

Stripping off her flour-coated clothes, she made her way over to the tub that was sitting in the far corner of the room. After scrubbing down her body and washing her hair, Petra turned to examine the dress that she had set aside for reaping day.

It was pretty and old, once having belonged to her mother before it had been passed down to her. She wondered how her mother had looked in it as a girl, before she had grown so bitter and cruel. She shook her head to rid herself of her daydreams before slipping the dress on and struggling with the buttons. Freshly combed and braided hair was the final, finishing touch of her outfit.

Glancing in the mirror, Petra noticed the girl staring back looked calm, confident, and perhaps even pretty. People had commented on her sunny, attractive appearance before, but she usually did not pay much attention. Beauty did not get you very far in District 12, not when there was work to be done and plenty of hungry mouths to feed.

The sound of the door opening behind her startled her. Her father walked into the room, loud footfalls echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. He was a quiet, kind man, known around District 12 for his generosity. He didn't say anything, but she could see the emotions in his eyes as he stared at his youngest child, his only daughter.

His heavy, reassuring hand squeezed her shoulder, and she leaned up to kiss his cheek. Petra grabbed his hand, and together they walked downstairs, exiting the bakery and joining the steady stream of people moving toward the town square.

* * *

Petra watched her mother stalk off to stand with the other adults, trying not to feel upset at the woman's indifference. Her father and eldest brother both stopped to smile reassuringly at her before following her mother.

She walked along with her middle brother for a few more seconds before they were split into genders. He was eighteen, his last year of being eligible for the Hunger Games, and she could not help but wish that she, too, was in her last year.

Suddenly alone, Petra marched on towards the check-in point, herded along by a sea of frightened young girls. The crowd was restless, and there was no conversation, only the sound of shuffling feet and the occasional hastily stifled sob.

Movement at the front podium drew her attention back to the front platform. A woman with crazy Capitol attire glided up onto the stage, slightly awkward in her ridiculously high heels. Petra smirked as she tried to imagine what would happen if people in District 12 dressed like that.

The Capitol woman, Effie Trinket, was the representative of District 12 in the Hunger Games. Many had learned to hate her, for around the district she was their face of the Games and everything that the people hated about the Capitol. Of course, to be caught saying such things would result in severe punishment.

Effie was followed a few moments later by a very drunk man, Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's only living victor of the Hunger Games. He staggered up on stage, collapsing in his seat next to the mayor of District 12. Petra was once again quietly amused by the disgusted look on Effie's face before she turned back to the microphone.

Effie's speech about the history of the Hunger Games was a long and tedious explanation that people had heard many times before. Petra allowed herself to detach from the moment, her hands twisting nervously in front of her as a strange feeling of dread washed over her.

It was entirely too soon that Effie was making her way over to the big glass bowl containing the names off all of the District 12 girls who were qualified for the Hunger Games.

"Ladies first!" she trilled in her strange accent, rooting around the bowl for a slip. She whisked one out, holding it up with a great flourish of her hand before calling out in a ringing voice, "Petra Mellark."

Petra's breath hitched and the ringing in her ears grew so loud that it blocked out all other sounds. Her vision narrowed, and in a daze, she saw Effie Trinket craning her neck around, searching through the mass of girls.

_She's looking for me_, Petra realized. On shaky legs, she slowly made her way up through the crowd before mounting the stairs, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and willing herself not to trip.

"Why don't you repeat your name for all of Panem, dear," she prompted. Her voice was entirely too cheerful.

"Petra Mellark," her voice, although not as loud as she was hoping, was steadier than she had expected.

"Wonderful," Effie gushed, clapping her hands together. She made her way over to the second bowl of names. "Now, it's time for the boys!" She plunged her hand into the bowl, drawing out another slip of paper.

_Don't let it be him, please don't let it be him_-

Effie read out the name, and Petra was so relieved not to hear "Katnin" that it took a few seconds for Effie's words to actually register.

"Prin Everdeen."

Prin, Katnin's younger brother, was the one person that Petra knew Katnin would do anything for. And suddenly, she realized what was going to happen moments before it did.

"I volunteer!" Petra heard Katnin scream as he pushed through the crowd towards his younger brother.

Prin was screaming, trying to stop him, but even as she watched, Gaila broke through the crowd to grab him and pull him away.

Katnin made his way to the platform, face devoid of emotion. He came to a stop at Effie's side.

"A volunteer! How wonderful. And what might your name be?" Effie smiled, beside herself with joy that something exciting was happening in her district.

"Katnin Everdeen," replied Katnin.

"I'll bet that was your brother," Effie said, her voice carrying no sympathy.

"Yes," Katnin's answer was little more than a whisper.

Petra wasn't quite sure what happened next, but a commotion behind her caught her attention as Haymitch slurred something, and, much to Effie's horror, threw an arm around Katnin before toppling off the stage, knocking himself out cold.

During the distraction, when every person and camera was turned towards Haymitch, Petra glanced over at Katnin. He let out a small sob, wiping away the moisture in his eyes, face contorted with pain before he rearranged his features back into a neutral expression.

In that moment, she realized that she would do anything to help Katnin survive the Hunger Games and return home. Her own survival did not matter, because she was not needed at home. Her father would miss her, and perhaps her older brothers. Maybe the cakes would not be as pretty without her decorations. But she was not depended upon like Katnin was, and her death would soon be forgotten as everyone she loved, friends and family, moved on with their lives.

The closing speeches went by much more slowly than the opening one, but she did not mind. She took the time to silently say good-bye to the landscape, the town, and her home, aware that she would never see them again.

The dreadful ordeal was finally brought to a close, and Katnin and Petra were instructed to shake hands. Petra tried to make the gesture as reassuring as possible, but she was so shaken up herself that she doubted Katnin had gotten the message.

They were ushered into the Justice Building, where they would be allowed a few last minutes with the people they cared about.

Delly, her best friend from childhood, was the first one in. She and Petra had always been close. As children, they liked to pretend they were sisters. At times, Petra wished it were actually true.

"I brought you this," Delly whispered, holding out a pretty bracelet with a small wooden flower charm that Petra had given her long ago. "I think you should wear it in the arena, you know, for good luck."

Her eyes started to tear up, and her throat closed. She nodded her thanks, unable to speak. Delly seemed to understand, reaching out to fasten to bracelet around Petra's wrist. The tears overflowed from Petra's eyes, and Delly wrapped her arms around her in a comforting hung. The embrace lasted only a few seconds, and Delly was pulled from the room by the waiting Peacekeepers.

Her two brothers appeared next. She had always been closest with the older one, who had adored her and looked after her when she was younger. He had always been her protection from their mother whenever she was in one of her moods. His eyes now apologized, knowing that this was something that he could never save her from.

Her middle brother had never been particularly fond of her. She had taken the attention away from him when she was born, and it was clear that he resented it. Now, however, he took her hand, squeezing it in an almost affectionate, if slightly awkward feeling, gesture. She glanced up at them, pulling them both into a hug before they, too, were pulled from the room.

Her parents were her final visitors. Her father didn't say anything, instead stroking her cheek and staring intently at her face, as if trying to memorize all of the details of her appearance. Petra was grateful for his presence, the family member she loved most.

Her mother pursed her lips together, breaking the silence. "District 12 may finally have a winner this year," she remarked. Petra felt hopeful for a moment, until her mother finished speaking. "He's a survivor, that one."

It was a dreadful thing to say, but Petra still felt foolish for hoping for something different from her mother. Still, she did have to agree with her about one thing: Katnin Everdeen was going to survive the Hunger Games and make it home, and Petra was going to do all that she could to help make it happen.


	3. Chapter Two

**I am back! I love the southwest, but I really did miss my New England forests. Thanks for your patience!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Hunger Games. **

**Although this is my longest chapter, I'm not very happy with it. It wasn't as much fun to write as the others were. I'm looking forward to writing the Games, but it will take me a couple of chapters to get there. I don't really know where this story is going, if I'm just going to do Hunger Games or the whole series. I want to write an epilogue story of it, because there's more creativity involved, but since I couldn't find any other stories like this one, I decided to start from the beginning.**

**I kept the dialogue the same as in the book, but I probably won't do that for every chapter, especially when Petra is sick and injured and might not have been hearing and seeing things exactly as they were... **

**One last thing, I'm not sure how often I can post. I've been writing in my spare time, but the end of the school year is coming, and I have a lot of work to do. Postings should increase once summer starts, but I know that waiting a long time for updates isn't fun, so I'll do my best to post as often as I can.**

The landscape visible from the windows outside the Capitol train whizzed by as the train and its occupants sped towards the Capitol.

Petra was given a room almost larger than her family's space above the bakery. The pale green walls, soft, silky clothes and fluffy, inviting sheets all drew her in, inviting her to stretch out and take a nap.

Instead, she headed into the bathroom to get ready for dinner. The many dials and knobs in the shower confused her, but eventually she managed to scrub herself clean. She stood under the hot spray for a few more minutes, allowing herself to cry again for the fact that she would be dead in a couple of weeks, and she would never see home again.

After her shower, Petra examined the clothes left in the closet for her before choosing a soft, deep blue dress that made her look somewhat innocent and enhanced the color of her eyes. She also examined her overall appearance, sizing herself up, wondering how she would compare with the other tributes. Beauty may not have been important in District 12, but to the Capitol, it was everything. In addition, another part of her was hoping that Katnin would notice, even though she knew it would not help their situation.

Petra arrived in the dining car just in time to see Haymitch finishing up the last of a bottle of liquor and announce that he was off to take a nap.

Taking a seat at a large, sleek wooden table, she thought about what it would be like, being in the Games. She had watched them on her television and on the large screen in town square for years, and for years she had seen the kids from District 12 brutally slaughtered in the arena. Many of them did not even make it through the first day, dying during the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. District 12 rarely had anyone to cheer for late in the Games.

After a while, she heard Effie knocking at Katnin's door, calling him to dinner. They appeared, Effie wearing a different- but still ridiculous- outfit, and Katnin looking cleaner and in clothes made of the same soft material as Petra's dress.

Katnin took the seat next to Petra, and a moment later Capitol attendants appeared with the meal.

Bowls of steaming soup, plates of tender meat and fresh vegetables, baskets of hot, buttery rolls and pitchers of sweet drinks, all followed by moist, rich chocolate cake; Petra had never seen a meal like it. She piled her plate high and dug in. Still, she could not help thinking that a meal that size could be used to feed both hers and Katnin's families for a week.

"Where's Haymitch?" Effie asked, breaking the silence.

"Last I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," Petra answered. Katnin shrugged, but Effie looked relieved at the news. Their mutual dislike was obvious to everyone who had seen them together.

The trio continued to eat their meal in silence. Petra tasted dish after dish; never had she eaten such a delicious meal, even as the baker's daughter. Most of their food was stale by the time they ate it.

Katnin, too, seemed to be trying to eat as much as possible. Food was sometimes hard to come by in District 12, particularly for the poorer people from the Seam. You never turned down a free meal, especially when you didn't know when your next one would be.

"At least you two have decent manners," Effie commented. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion!"

Petra thought back to the District 12 tributes from the year before, two Seam kids that looked like they had never had a decent meal in their lives. Both were killed on the first day, the boy during the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, and the girl when she was found by the pack of career tributes while trying to find shelter.

Thinking of the dead tributes and Effie's rude comment made Petra's blood start to boil. One glance over at Katnin, who was eating with his hands and using the tablecloth as a napkin told Petra that he felt the same way.

About half way through dessert her stomach began to reject the rich food, and it was all she could do to keep her meal from making a reappearance. She noticed that Katnin's face rather green as well. Neither of them was used to the rich food, and both had eaten a lot of it.

Effie turned on the television so that they could watch the recap of the reapings. Trying hard not to vomit in front of Katnin, she settled into one of the plushy armchairs and focused on the recap. It would be important for her to know who each tribute was and what kind of threat they posed.

Watching one of the career tributes from District 2 lunge forward to volunteer, a plan began to form in Petra's mind. The careers were the biggest human threat to the other tributes, and it was most likely that one of them would win the Games.

The careers usually formed an alliance until only a handful of the tributes were left, then they turned on each other. If she was able to become a part of the group, she realized, she would be in a far better position to help Katnin survive.

Stowing her plan in the back of her mind for later consideration, she concentrated on the rest of the reapings, trying to memorize the faces of each tributes and assess who would be a danger.

As they watched the tributes from District 11 get picked, she heard Katnin gasp quietly. The girl from 11 was only twelve years old, like Katnin's younger brother, and her size and demeanor were similar to Prin's as well. However, unlike Prin, no one stepped forward to volunteer for her.

The replay moved on to District 12, and Petra watched Effie pull out her name, watched as she slowly climbed up the stage. Her face was not as emotionless as she had hoped, but at least her legs were steady and her voice was even.

Then the TV showed Prin's name being drawn, Katnin running forward to take his place. Another pang of anger hit her as she thought again of the cruelty of the Capitol, the inhumanity of the Hunger Games.

Effie, apparently, wasn't focusing on Petra or Katnin at all in the recap, for a second later she spoke up, her eyes on Haymitch's drunken image. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot to learn about televised behavior."

Petra didn't know why she found it funny, but she replied with a laugh. "He was drunk. He's drunk every year."

"Every day," Katnin added, smiling.

"Yes. How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!" Effie snapped.

As if on cue, Haymitch appeared, stumbling into the dining compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred, before vomiting all over the carpet and falling into it.

"So laugh away!" Effie hissed as she skirted around the mess and fled the room.

A horrid stench filled the room as Haymitch flailed around, trying to pick himself off of the vomit-stained floor. Petra met Katnin's eyes, and without a word, they both grabbed an arm and hauled Haymitch to his feet.

"Let's get you back to your room," she suggested, ignoring Haymitch's drunken mutterings. "Clean you up a bit."

Together they dragged him to his room and dumped him in the bathtub. He needed to be washed, but one look at Katnin's face told Petra that he would rather be anywhere than where he was. She felt a flash of pity for him.

"It's okay, I'll take it from here," she offered. As unappealing as she found the idea of stripping Haymitch down and bathing him, Katnin looked like he, too, was about to vomit.

Relief spread across his face, followed by a flash of suspicion that strengthened when she turned down his offer to send a Capitol attendant to help her. Petra knew that Katnin would be suspicious of her, especially since the fact that only one of them could survive the next couple of weeks hung over their heads.

_Don't worry; it won't be me_, Petra thought.

After Katnin left the room, she turned to the task at hand. Carefully pulling off their mentor's outer clothes, Petra turned on the water, thoroughly soaking his body and underclothes. She grabbed the soap and scrubbed at his skin and hair, removing all traces of vomit. Haymitch didn't seem to realize that he was being helped, for he didn't respond to any of her scrub down.

When he was as clean as she could get him, Petra hauled the sopping wet Haymitch to his feet and wrapped him in a towel. She dug through the drawers until she found some clothes that would pass as pajamas. She handed them to him, glad that he was alert enough to put them on himself. Nudity didn't usually bother her, but dressing Haymitch had never been on the list of things she had wanted to do in her lifetime.

_Better get started on that,_ she thought wryly. _Don't have much time to finish it_.

She tucked Haymitch into bed, careful to lay him on his side in case he threw up again. By the time she left the room, he was snoring.

Aware that she smelled of vomit, Petra forced herself to take another shower instead of climbing into bed like she wanted. The hot spray relaxed her muscles and her eyelids drooped. She shut off her shower quickly, afraid of dozing off with the water running.

Without bothering to get dressed or even dry off, Petra climbed into her bed, sighing as the cool sheets settled against her bare skin as she drifted off to sleep.

In her dreams, the beautiful blonde girl from District 1- Glimmer- chased Katnin around, trying to kill him with one of Effie's pointy high heels. As Petra watched, Glimmer's blonde hair started to dull and turn grey at the roots. The skin on her face wrinkled, her body shrunk slightly, and the look in her eyes turned old and angry.

Suddenly, Petra found herself looking at her mother's face as she drove the point of the heel through Katnin's eye, gouging it out. Mrs. Mellark turned from Katnin's writhing body and started towards Petra. She smiled maliciously and picked up Katnin's bow from where it lay abandoned on the ground. She notched an arrow and aimed it Petra, who stood frozen before her.

As her mother aimed the arrow, Petra noticed a hideous white-haired man with surgically puffed-up lips watching them calmly. President Snow smiled as he watched Petra's mother release the arrow straight at her daughter.

She awoke with a start, the sheets tangled around her, imprisoning her. Pushing off the covers, she let the cool air dry her clammy skin as the dark room slowly lightened.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but after a while, she rose and dressed, still too early for anyone else to be awake.

The dining compartment was empty except for one of the Capitol attendants, an Avox, who was laying out breakfast.

Petra stared at the feast in front of her but her stomach was too upset to handle much. She ate a couple of pieces of the fresh fruit and examined the rest of the food. The Avox began putting out drinks, and a pitcher of hot chocolate caught her attention. Hot chocolate was something almost never seen in District 12. She'd only had it once before, on her twelfth birthday.

She had been upset to turn twelve, knowing that it meant her name would be put into the reaping, along with the names of all of the other twelve to eighteen year old kids. Even if it wasn't drawn that year, she would still have five more to get through. Twelfth birthdays were not generally considered happy days in District 12.

Birthdays were not usually a big deal in her household anyways. Her mother had ignored the day completely, ordering Petra to feed the pigs and sweep the front of the shop before starting her decorating.

Her brothers came into the side room while she was frosting. They were carrying a package containing a new dress and some hair ribbons for her. She remembered her eyes filling with tears at the gifts; the clothes were soft and probably expensive. She wondered how long they had saved to buy her the present.

"Happy birthday," her eldest brother whispered.

With the exception of her father and perhaps Delly, her oldest brother was closer to her than anyone else. He looked upset, and Petra could guess that it was because of the reaping, that turning twelve meant she was eligible for it. His warm arms enveloped her as he pulled her into a comforting hug, while her middle brother, who she was not as close with, gave her an uncomfortable, if well-meaning, pat on the shoulder.

Later that night, Petra sat on the back steps of the bakery, too miserable to go to bed. Her father came up behind her and settled down beside her. She was expecting silence, but he surprised her.

"Have you ever had hot chocolate?" he asked, holding out a cup to her.

"No," she replied, taking the warm mug. She eyed the thick brown drink in front of her before taking a tentative sip. The creamy liquid slid down her throat, calming her. She felt herself relaxing for the first time that day. Her father held out a bundle of her favorite cookies, soft, buttery vanilla ones with sweet fruity jelly on top. They were expensive to make because of the jelly, so she hardly ever got to eat them.

They sat like that, in silence, watching the sun go down and the sky turn a soft orange, her favorite color. It was one of her favorite memories of him.

Thinking of her father and home made her throat tighten, but she fought against it. On the table in front of her sat a basket of fluffy rolls. She dunked one in a mug of hot chocolate, letting it soak before taking a bite.

Haymitch appeared, hungover, but dressed and functioning. He glanced at Petra as if trying to figure something out. Apparently deciding it was nothing, he ignored the food laid out on the table and poured himself a glass of alcohol.

_No wonder the tributes from District 12 never survive, even the able-bodied, capable ones, _she thought. Haymitch was responsible for giving advice and, more importantly, getting and choosing gifts from sponsors. Their tributes never got much, not with Haymitch as a mentor. Still, Petra knew that she would need him on her side if she was going to help protect Katnin.

After a few minutes Katnin arrived. His face was once again arranged in his carefully neutral mask, but the bags under his eyes told Petra that he hadn't slept well either.

Effie bustled in, muttering to herself as she poured a cup of coffee. She hurried out again, still muttering something about their arrival in the Capitol and "useless drunks."

Haymitch waved for Katnin to sit down. He did so, eying the plate of food placed in front of him. Petra noticed him staring at the mug of hot chocolate. If she'd only had it once in her life, then he had probably never had it before.

"They call it hot chocolate," she explained. "It's good"

He picked up the mug and took a sip, then another, ignoring the rest of the meal until his glass was drained.

She noticed Katnin watching Haymitch as he continued to take sips from his drink, ignoring them completely. Finally, Katnin spoke up.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," he said.

"Here's some advice," Haymitch laughed. "Stay alive."

Petra met Katnin's eyes for a brief moment before his suddenly flitted away. Haymitch's actions wouldn't just affect her chances of survival; they would hurt Katnin's as well.

The anger towards the Capitol, the Games, and everything else that had been bubbling inside her finally came out.

"That's very funny," she snarled, lashing out at his glass of alcohol, sending it flying. "Only not to us."

Haymitch's fist made contact with her jaw and she felt herself being knocked back into her seat. Katnin was on his feet in an instant, digging a knife into the table between Haymitch's fingers and the bottle of liquor.

Haymitch looked almost surprised. "Well, what's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

Petra grabbed some ice from a nearby bowl of fruit to put on her jaw, but he stopped her, claiming that a bruise would make her look as if she had already fought and gotten away with it.

He then turned to Katnin and had him demonstrate his knife-throwing skills. The blade lodged in the seam between two panels, and Petra was impressed. She only knew his skills with a bow and arrow.

Haymitch was still sizing them up. He ordered them to stand in front of him and, after circling them a few times, he declared them to be "attractive enough." Petra knew the more attractive tributes pulled in more sponsors. Finnick Odair, the heartbreakingly handsome District 4 tribute who won his games a few years back after receiving a trident, the most expensive gift Petra had ever seen, was proof of that.

Their mentor had seen enough. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly as I say.

Petra knew that it was as good of a deal as they were going to get. Katnin seemed eager to talk strategy, but Haymitch waved him off.

"We'll be arriving at the Capitol soon. You'll be in your stylist's hands, and even if you don't like what they do to you don't question it," he warned.

As the train rounded the corner the tall buildings of the Capitol came into view. Katnin hung back, but Petra went straight to the window to wave at the crowd of strange-looking Capitol citizens gathered to catch the first glimpse of the tributes as they debarked.

She waved and smiled, knowing that Katnin was not naturally good with people. It would be up to her to win sponsors for District 12 based on likability.

The train came to a stop and the doors slowly opened.

The seventy-fourth Hunger Games had begun.


	4. Chapter Three

**I know it's kind of short, but I wanted to put up a new chapter because I have to study for my SATs on Saturday. Gross, I know. Hopefully I'll get another chapter up after that.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed my story so far. Feedback helps me to know what to do next, so any advice you have is wonderful. Also, thanks to all the people who added this to their alerts and favorites. I love knowing that this story is being read. I've been reading fanfiction for a year now, and I could never come up with any ideas for a story of my own. Now that I'm writing one, however, I'm finding ideas everywhere. I have a possible oneshot about Johanna forming in my head, and I heard a song that reminded me so much of Finnick that I was thinking of doing a story about him, too. I'm trying to hold off until I get farther in this story. I'm determined to finish this! Abandoned stories are always so disappointing. **

**In case you haven't figured it out already, I'm not Suzanne Collins, therefore, I don't own the **_**The Hunger Games.**_

Petra and Katnin were herded away from the eager crowd of Capitol viewers towards the part of the city that was reserved for the planning and putting on of the Hunger Games. Her cheeks hurt from smiling and her wrist was starting to ache from waving to passerby, but she was careful not to let it show on her face. She needed people to like her.

All of the victors would be officially introduced later that night, so the whole day was set aside for their stylists to make them presentable. As exhausted as she was, they wouldn't be shown their living quarters until much later that night.

They were brought into a sleek-looking building where they were told their prep teams were waiting for them. After a brief elevator ride, Petra and Katnin were lead into separate rooms for their prepping. She cast a long look after him, but he didn't turn around as the door closed behind him.

Inside the room were three people who Petra recognized to be her prep team. They wore the strange Capitol fashion, but at least they were not grotesque like some of the people she had seen earlier on the streets. Surrounding them were tables of products and tools that would be used to beautify her. A few things she guessed were for her hair, nails and skin, but she couldn't imagine what everything else was used for. She sighed, knowing she was in for a long night.

She was stripped naked and put into a large tub filled with sudsy water and some sort of foul-smelling mixture that Petra guessed was supposed to make her skin look better. Her hair was also scrubbed out with several different products, all of which smelled of roses. When she was deemed clean enough, she was dried and dressed in a paper gown so thin she may as well have been wearing nothing.

A young woman, introduced to her as Circe, began to fix her hair, combing and drying the long blonde locks that would later be shaped into something more elaborate to go with her costume. Of the three members of her prep team, she was the most normal-looking. If it weren't for her long, deep purple hair and healthier, well-fed appearance, Petra mussed, she would almost fit in among the wealthier districts. Circe's touch was gentle, and although she didn't talk much, her smile seemed genuine.

A loud ripping sound and a flash of sudden pain as another strip of hair was ripped from her leg brought Petra back to her senses. Amais's bleached hair and light tattoos stood out even more against his dark skin as his image swam into view through the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes. She gritted her teeth and watched as he prepared another torture strip.

"Ooh, I hear Portia and Cinna- that's your district partner's stylist- have something special planned for District 12's costumes this year," Erela, a talkative woman with dramatic black makeup and short, spiky pink hair, chirped as she buffed Petra's nails. "I know that District 12's styles haven't always been outstanding, but I have high hopes for Cinna and Portia. They're new this year, but already they've made an impression on some of the other stylists. These Games need some new ideas this year. I remember this one year when…"

Petra smiled and tried to concentrate on not yelling as Amais forcefully tore out more hair and, by the feel of it, some skin as well.

After what seemed like hours of poking, pulling, scrubbing, sculpting, and beautifying, the door opened revealing a lovely young woman with golden eyes and dark hair that shone blue under the light. She walked toward a still somewhat raw-skinned Petra. "I'm Portia, your stylist," she said, holding out her hand for her to shake.

"Petra," she replied, taking Portia's outstretched hand. Circe removed the paper gown from Petra's body before she and the rest of the prep team exited the room. Petra's stylist circled her as she examined the naked girl before her. She finally stopped, coming face-to-face with Petra and looking her in the eye.

"In the past, because District 12 produces coal all of your tributes have been stuck in costumes that relate to the coal itself. That idea has been used too many times," Portia explained. "So this year, Cinna and I were thinking that we should give the people of Panem something to remember."

* * *

The tight black suit clung to her body as she moved, heavy black books clunking on the floor with each step she took. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face in an elaborate bun and her blue eyes had been highlighted with a minimal amount of black makeup so as to enhance their shape and color rather than distract from them. When she smiled, her whitened teeth contrasted dramatically with the dark red lipstick that had been painted on her lips.

She might have been pleased with the costume (after all, it was much better than going out naked and covered in coal dust) if not for that fact that it was made to be lit on fire.

She and Katnin were going to burn.

Petra spotted him near their chariot, dressed in a black suit almost identical to hers. He was talking with a good-looking man with dark skin and a hint of gold eyeliner on his eyes, who she assumed to be Cinna. The pair turned to look at Petra and Portia as they arrived.

"It's not real flame, of course, just a little synthetic fire Portia and I came up with," Cinna reassured them. "You'll be perfectly safe."

Petra's prep team was there as well as Katnin's, and the excitement over the flaming costumes was almost tangible. Cinna was the only one who looked slightly tired as he and Portia accepted congratulations for their work.

"What do you think?" Katnin asked as they boarded the chariot. "About the fire?"

_Forget the Games_, she thought. _We're about to burn to death right now_. "I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Deal. I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle."

Petra looked around for their mentor, noticing his absence. "Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?"

"With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame," Katnin laughed. Petra laughed as well, aware that this was the first time they had ever really laughed together. _It's probably just our nerves_, she reminded herself.

The doors opened and the first chariot, District 1, rode out to the waiting crowd. The tributes looked beautiful in their gem-encrusted outfits, and Petra could hear the crowd cheering. District 1 was always a favorite.

Petra's heart pumped faster with every chariot that exited through the doors. The first jolt of her own chariot unbalanced her, nearly causing her to topple off it. _What a sight that would be. A tribute falling off the chariot. _It wouldn't be the first time it had happened.

A tickling sensation started at her back, and she knew that Portia had ignited their suits. Too scared to look at the flames coming from her costume, she focused her attention on Cinna as the chariot started towards the exit.

"Hold hands," he called to them, his voice just barely audible over the din outside.

"What is he saying?" Katnin asked her.

The butterflies in her stomach were beating up her insides as if trying to escape. "I think he said for us to hold hands," she responded, holding out her hand. Katnin took it, and together they rode out to face the crowd.

Screams and gasps could be heard as the audience spotted them, fire blazing behind them and illuminating them attractively. Petra glanced at Katnin, aware that the flames made he look stunning and fierce. She realized, by the look he gave her, that she looked the same way.

The crowd chanted their names, all other tributes forgotten. Petra blew kisses as Katnin waved, and together, they raised their entwined hands above their heads, causing the Capitol citizens to cheer louder. The gesture united them, presenting them as a team, which no other tributes had ever done before.

After reaching the City Circle, their chariot began to slow, and Katnin started to let go of Petra's bloodless hand. Afraid of falling again, and glad for the feeling of his hand in hers, Petra held on tighter, stopping him. Petra noticed, on the monitors surrounding them, that she and Katnin held most of the attention of the cameras. Even when President Snow got up to speak and the anthem played, hers and Katnin's faces, surrounded by the flickering flames, still held the eyes of every person in Panem. _Well,_ Petra thought, _Portia was right. This is certainly something they won't forget. _


	5. Chapter Four

*****Updated author's note*** I changed the names in this story because I got some updated ones that I liked, and a lot of people (myself included) were getting confused with the original names in a gender-swap.**

**Thank you to all of my reviewers, and to everyone who added this to their favorites and alerts. **

**Also thanks to everyone who suggested names for me to use. I'm horrible at coming up with names, at least the kind of names that you might find in books like**_** The Hunger Games**_**. For Peeta/Petra's prep team in the last chapter, I had to Google "strange names."**

**Thank you for your feedback!**

**Remember, I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**.**

The gigantic, fluffy bed sunk underneath her weight as she sat down, trapping her in comfort. Petra hadn't believed that anything could be nicer than her room on the train, but she was proven wrong by the room she was given in the Training Center. The room was bigger than her whole bakery and backyard combined, the furniture more beautiful and comfortable than any in District 12, the shower in her bathroom held more buttons than she knew what to do with, and the food that appeared at the touch of a button was the most delicious she had ever tasted. The penthouse suit where the District 12 tributes always stayed was sparkling and immaculate and the whole grand city was visible from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

All the luxury made her want to vomit.

Despite the large area, she could not help but feel trapped and claustrophobic. Making her way to the balcony, she spotted Cinna leaning over the railing, a somewhat melancholy look on his face. He was staring hard at the lights of the city and the crowds of people in the streets below. Petra was suddenly worried that he was going to jump.

The idea brought her back to the realization that she had never heard of a tribute committing suicide before the Games. "Why do they let us up here?" she asked when she was standing next to him. The howling wind almost took the sound of her voice away, but he still seemed to have heard. "Aren't they afraid someone will jump?"

"You can't," he replied. "There's a force field." He stuck his hand out into the air in front of them. A moment later Petra heard a sharp zapping sound and Cinna quickly pulled his hand back.

"Keeping us safe before they kill us?"

"Something like that," he laughed darkly. Petra looked more closely at Katnin's stylist. Like Portia, Cinna didn't seem to be Capitol-driven like the rest of the people involved in running the Games. Both seemed as if they really wanted to help both Katnin and Petra.

Portia materialized next to them, appearing as if from Petra's thoughts. "The party is starting down there, isn't it?" she spoke quietly, referring to the crowds of people gathered below.

"Yes," Cinna answered.

"What are they doing?" Petra was curious.

"The Capitol citizens like to party during the Games," Cinna explained. "It always starts right after the reapings, and goes through the end of the Games. While you're in the arena, many people in the Capitol will be drinking, eating, partying, and betting on their favorites. For some of them, it really is just a game." Beside him, Portia nodded her head.

Petra didn't know what to say, but fortunately, Effie's voice rang out, calling everyone to dinner. The piles of food crowded on the table looked delicious, and as averse to the Capitol and its greed as she was, she took as much food as she could fit on her plate, knowing she needed to put on weight before going to starve in the arena. Katnin, who was sitting next to her, seemed to have the same idea as he poured another bowl of soup.

"What a marvelous idea, no one could take their eyes off them-"

"Ahh, yes it took us quite a few tries to get the fire right-"

"The crowd loved them, didn't you hear them chanting their names-"

Everyone at the table was still talking about the fire costumes, praising Cinna and Portia for their excellent work. Even Haymitch, who was actually eating something, although it was accompanied by a glass of wine, seemed alert to the conversation.

As the main part of the meal wound down, a young redheaded Avox appeared with a gorgeous cake that she lit on fire. Katnin was staring intently at the girl's face until a look of recognized came into his eyes and he gasped, "Oh! I know you!"

_What is he thinking?_ she mentally gasped. _Admitting to knowing an Avox is extremely dangerous!_

Everyone at the table was staring at Katnin as well. Effie is the first to speak up, dismissing the thought that Katnin would know an Avox, and then explaining to him what an Avox was. Petra could almost see his thoughts as he tried to come up with a good cover story. "No, I guess not, I just-"

"Delly Cartwright. That's who it is," Petra jumped in, offering Katnin an excuse, which he took gratefully. Of course, the Avox looked nothing like her best friend, but Petra knew she would have time later to question him about the incident.

After finishing up the last of their dessert and watching the opening ceremonies as it was broadcasted across Panem, Haymitch ordered them to get some sleep. Petra followed Katnin to his room, still looking for an explanation. She leaned against his doorframe, not exactly blocking him, but making it so that he couldn't ignore her. "So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." She could see him hesitating; the look on his face told her that he was debating whether or not to confide in her. She picked up on his hesitation. "Have you been to the roof yet?" He shook his head. "Cinna showed me. You can practically see the whole city. The wind's a bit loud, though."

"Can we just go up?"

"Sure, come on," she said, tugging him along. Once up on the roof, Katnin paused to take in the view and Petra explained about the force field. After finding a particularly windy spot near the rooftop garden, Katnin told Petra of seeing the redheaded Avox girl being picked up by the Capitol hovercraft while her male companion was killed as they tried to run away.

"They were from here?" Petra wondered. Katnin nodded. "Where do you suppose they were going?"

"I don't know that," Katnin frowned. There wasn't much left to run to beyond District 12. "Or why they would leave here."

Petra thought of the Capitol, so glamorous and polished from the outside, but dark and sinister underneath it all. "I'd leave her," she blurted out before she could stop herself. Knowing that admitting such a thing out loud was dangerous, she quickly covered her mistake, making herself out to be a homesick tribute. "I'd go home now if they let me. But you have to admit, the food's prime."

The wind howled louder, the chilly air around them causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. She shivered, and Katnin suggested that they go inside.

On the way in, Petra noticed how far away Katnin looked. With a pang of jealousy, she wondered if he was thinking of Gaila. "Did Gaila come to say good-bye to you?"

"Of course," Katnin responded, giving her a strange look. "So did your father."

Petra was surprised. She hadn't realized her father had gone to see Katnin, but it made sense.

_Petra's father held her hand as he led her towards where the rest of the children were waiting with their parents to start their first day of school. Suddenly, her father pointed to a small boy with dark hair and grey eyes, standing with a handsome man who looked like an older version of him. "See that boy over there," the baker asked. Petra nodded. "I wanted to marry his mother, but she ran off with a coal miner."_

"_A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?" the blonde girl inquired._

"_Because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen."_

Petra hadn't thought much if it until Katnin stood up and sang the Valley song in class that day. And just like Katnin's mother, Petra knew she was a goner.

"Well, he likes you and your brother," she responded to Katnin's revelation about her father. Katnin looked surprised, as if he didn't expect the baker to like him, let alone like him enough for Petra to know about it. "He knew your mother when they were kids." Katnin looked even more surprised at that. Mrs. Everdeen had probably never mentioned it to her son.

"Oh, yes. She grew up in town," he said, politely. They had reached his door. "See you in the morning then."

"See you," she replied, heading to her own room.

The soft bed and cool sheets did nothing to help her sleep as she tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. The start of their training period was the next day, and she knew that every day that passed was another day closer to the arena, to her death. After an hour, she finally got up and examined the windows. They stuck at first, as if they had not been opened in a long time. After the initial resistance, however, they jolted upwards and glided open smoothly, allowing the cool breeze and moonlight into the room.

She slept soundly the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter Five

**So, there was a lot of dialogue in this chapter, and I did have to cut parts out and change up some of the lines, but it's still basically the same. **

**I'm really impatient to get to the Games, but I hope my impatience doesn't show through in my writing. It will still be another couple of chapters before I can get to the area. I'm hoping to have another one written and posted by the end of this weekend.**

**Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. It motivates me to write.**

**I know the name thing is confusing. I've changed everything around way too many times, and then my computer started replacing things it shouldn't have when I was editing, and everything was just a mess. I'm straightening it out now, and I think I'm going to leave the names the way they are, at least for now. The line break things are the worst for me. I always forget they don't transfer from Microsoft Word onto the Fanfiction document, so sometimes I forget to put them in and there are random jumps in my writing. With all the confusion, some parts of the story got a little messed up. If you see any weird mistakes in here, I apologize. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Hunger Games.**_

The first thing Petra saw as she exited her room on the first morning of training was Haymitch's scowling face as he dragged himself towards the kitchen. He had cleaned up and was looking unusually sober, although reluctantly so. As he passed her, he grunted that she suspected was supposed to be a greeting.

Katnin was already seated and eating breakfast, looking far more awake than Haymitch. She noticed his eyes narrow as he took in Petra's appearance. Their stylists had given them matching outfits, which consisted of tight black pants, long-sleeved burgundy tunics, and leather shoes. Petra wasn't surprised. After their united appearance at the opening ceremonies, it was rumored that people were already starting to view them as a team.

"So let's get down to business. Training. If you like, I'll coach you separately," Haymitch said, reminding them of what was in store for them.

"Why would you coach us separately?" Katnin asked.

"Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about," he replied.

"I don't have any secret skills," Petra said, thinking of how baking was the only thing she was known for being good at back home. Unlike Katnin, whose talent with a bow was admired throughout the district, not to mention his determination and ability to keep his family alive. "And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels."

"You can coach us together," Katnin decided.

"So give me some idea of what you can do," Haymitch prompted.

"I can't do anything, unless you count baking bread," Petra said.

"Sorry, I don't. Katnin, I already know you're handy with a knife."

"No, not really. But I can hunt, with a bow and arrow," Katnin replied.

"And you're good?" Haymitch asked.

"I'm all right."

For some reason, Katnin's downplay of his talents annoyed her. Perhaps he didn't realize how good he was? At any rate, Petra reasoned, Haymitch needed to know what he was capable of if he was going to help keep Katnin alive in the arena.

"He excellent," she jumped in. "My father buys his squirrels, and he always hits them strait in the eye. Same goes for everything else he hunts. He can even take down deer."

"What are you doing?" Katnin hissed.

"If he's going to help you, he needs to know what you can do! Don't underrate yourself," she retorted.

"Well, what about you?" Katnin shot back. "You're strong; I've seen you in town lifting hundred pound bags of flour over your shoulder."

"Oh, and I'm sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people," she snarled sarcastically, although a part of her was somewhat flattered that he had noticed.

He turned to Haymitch. "She came in second at our school's wrestling match last year, only after her older brother." Now Petra was definitely surprised at his observation. He knew more about her than she thought he had. Even Katnin seemed startled at his revelation, as if he hadn't realized how much he paid attention to her.

"How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?" she spat, still annoyed.

"There's always hand-to-hand combat. If you get your hands on a knife, you'll be fine!"

They continued to bicker until Haymitch finally brought the argument to a stop.

"Stay away from showing what you're best at until your private sessions," he advised. "One last thing, in public I want you by each other's side every minute. Every minute! This is not up for debate. You agreed to do exactly as I said. You will be together, and you will appear amiable to each other. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training."

Katnin shoved his chair away from the table and stormed off, slamming the door to his room loudly behind him. Haymitch sighed and put his head in his hands.

"He has no idea about the effect he has on people," Petra told him.

Haymitch looked up at her.

"He has a chance of going home. But I'm not going to make it. I don't plan on it," she took a deep breath. "I'm going to die in the arena. But before I die, I want to do everything I can to help keep him alive. And I need your help to do that."

* * *

The truth was, Petra mussed as the elevator bearing her, Effie, and Katnin sped toward the training floor, that she hadn't been entirely truthful about her skills. She had always been a good liar, and she was good at influencing other people. As a young child, all it took was a sweet smile and a few words from her before the blame for every broken plate or missing cookie was shifted onto someone else. Although she eventually realized lying was wrong, she was willing to use it to protect the people she loved. And Katnin was definitely someone she loved, although he didn't know it.

She wasn't sure how much help she could be to him fighting in the arena, but sponsors would greatly increase their chance of survival. The interviews were the perfect time to get sponsors. With twenty-four tributes, it was hard to stand out, but Petra had in mind something that had never before happened during the Games.

A declaration of love for another tribute.

They had already presented themselves as a team right from the start, and it seemed as if everyone around her, with the exception of Katnin, realized the advantage it gave them. Cinna and Portia were dressing them to match, and Haymitch was making sure they stayed together and appeared friendly. Even Effie seemed to recognize it, although Petra wasn't sure on what level.

The elevator doors slid quietly open, revealing a huge indoor arena filled with various stations and weapons. Most of the other tributes were already gathered around, all marked with the number of their district, similar to the one the attendant hurried forward to pin to her own costume.

A Capitol woman standing in front of the tributes began to list off the rules of the training area: each station held either survival or fighting skills that tributes would be free to travel between, experts were available to practice with and to teach skills, fighting with other tributes was forbidden…

Needless to say, Petra only listened to about half of her speech.

She spent most of the time sizing up the various tributes. Although she had a healthier body than most girls in District 12 from having enough to eat and from years of building her muscles, she could by no means be considered big. Many of the girls were at least her size, and the Career tribute girls from Districts 1, 2, and 4 were bigger and more muscular than she was.

Katnin's size disadvantage was even greater than hers was. He was slightly taller than her, but he was no stranger to starvation, and his thin build would be no match for any of the other male tributes in a battle of physical power.

As soon as the head trainer released them, the Career tributes headed straight for the most lethal-looking weapons to show off their skills. Most of the other tributes headed over to the more basic weapons stations, where the instructors started demonstrating some simple fighting moves.

Katnin was still beside her, a faraway look on his face. Remembering Haymitch's instructions to stick together in public, she nudged him. "So, where to first?"

He looked startled as if he'd forgotten she was there. Glancing around at the different options, his gaze settled on an empty survival training station on the far side of the room. "Suppose we tie some knots."

"Right you are," she nodded, following him to the station.

The rest of the day was a blur as she tried to take in as much instruction as she could. By the end of the hour, she had mastered most of the basic knots. Katnin was excellent, and by the time they left, the trainer had taught him most of the rope tricks that he knew. She was mediocre at throwing knifes and spears, and no good at any sort of shooting, but she excelled at hand-to-hand combat. She learned how to start a fire, how to find food, and how to use clues about the landscape to find water.

Her favorite station of the day was the camouflage station. She used the pots of thick brown mud, slimy clay and brightly-colored berry juices laid out on the table to disguise her arm as a branch that blended in perfectly when held up against a tree. The trainer was very enthusiastic about her work and kept up a constant stream of praise and questions about her techniques.

Katnin came up behind her as she was creating different light patterns on her camouflaged arm. Petra could feel his calculating stare making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she ignored it, happily immersed in her work. "I do the cakes," she admitted, as if he had asked her for an explanation.

"What cakes?" he asked, attention having turned to one of the Career tributes throwing a spear through a practice dummy.

"At home. The iced ones for the bakery."

He shifted his glare onto her. "It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death," he quipped sarcastically.

"Don't be so superior," she retorted. "You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cake-"

"Say we move on," he interrupted.

They spent the next few days in training, soaking in as much knowledge and instruction as they could get before the arena. As per Haymitch's instruction, they made sure to always be together in public. Conversations often became awkward as they struggled to find things to talk about. Katnin was not good at faking conversations, so Petra did most of the talking.

With the exception of the Career tributes, they were the only two to eat together during lunch. The other tributes stared at them strangely, but they ignored it. After all, appearing friendly was important for Petra's plan for the interviews. It would make the idea that they were in love so much more believable.

Petra only wished that Katnin really were in love with her.


	7. Chapter Six

**I'll be the first to admit, this is another chapter I'm not totally happy with. It's not nearly as long as I wanted, and not very much happens. This was supposed to go all the way up to the interviews, but I'm going to have to put that in the next chapter. I just wanted to get this out, because it's been way too long since I updated.**

**I decided to keep Katniss's name Katnin. Kanan was the second choice. I almost changed it, but I'm tired of switching the names. It takes away time that I could be using to write the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who gave their opinion.**

**Also, I changed my pen name. I looked up the meaning of my real name, and it made me laugh. SunshineLanie was something I came up with a long time ago, and I've been looking for something new for a while.**

**I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**.**

The sound of laughter echoing from the Gamemakers' platform grows louder as Petra made her way to the Training Room. It was empty save for the racks of weapons, supplies, and practice dummies placed around the room. She searched around for the weights, remembering Katnin's advice to show off her strength.

As she looked up at the Gamemakers, however, she knew it wouldn't matter what she did. They had seen twenty-two other tributes perform, and most of them were uninterested with what the final tributes had to offer. The feast was delicious and the wine had been flowing all night, and what had started out as an evaluation of skills had turned into a party. Many of them were dancing around drunkenly, bellowing out what she guessed was some kind of drinking song.

"Petra Mellark," she called out. "District 12."

She waited for someone to notice her and tell her to begin, but when no instructions were forthcoming, she gave up and made her way over to a shelf of weights. Grabbing a medium-sized one to start, she took aim at a nearby target.

After narrowly avoiding crushing her food under a particularly heavy weight, Petra began to feel somewhat ridiculous. She wasn't sure what her demonstration of strength was supposed to prove, especially since no one else seemed interested. When her time was called almost fifteen minutes later, she was relieved.

_I'll be lucky to get a two,_ she thought as she gratefully exited the room and boarded the elevator back to her floor.

Cinna, Portia, and Effie were all milling around the siting room, waiting for Petra and Katnin to return. Effie was too busy scribbling in some sort of planner book to notice her arrival, but Cinna and Portia both offered her friendly smiles as she sat down.

"Oh, good, you're back," Effie noticed. "We're just waiting on Katnin for dinner. It shouldn't be long; his evaluation was right after yours. The scores will be broadcast after dinner."

"Where's Haymitch?" Petra asked, ignoring her other words.

A dark look passed over Effie's powder-white face. "I think he was-"

"Right here, sweetheart," Haymitch's gruff voice interrupted. He plopped himself down in a chair across from her, a glass in his hand. She stared at it suspiciously until she realized that it was only water.

The door to the suite banged open as Katnin hurried inside and ran past the sitting room, ignoring the greetings called out to him. Petra had just enough time to catch a glimpse of his angry, upset-looking face as the door to his bedroom slammed shut behind him.

Haymitch and Effie were on their feet instantly, banging on his door and calling to him to let them in. Their pleading was met with no response.

It took more than an hour for the door to slowly open and for him to appear, red-rimmed eyes focused on the floor, answering Effie's call to dinner. Everyone else had already gathered at the table, and copious amounts of food were laid out on the table. He took the seat across from her and poured a bowl of salty fish soup.

Petra's eyes bored into his forehead, willing him to look up. She was concerned about his breakdown earlier. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it had something to do with the evaluation.

When he finally gave in to her penetrating stare, he gave a small shake of his head. _Not now_.

Haymitch finally raises his hand to speak, bringing the adults' conversation to a halt.

"Okay, enough small talk," he said. "Just how bad were you today?"

When Katnin didn't answer, Petra decided to speak up. "I don't know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go."

Haymitch nodded, as if he had heard that before. He turned to Katnin. "And you?"

"I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers," he replied nonchalantly.

Even Petra, who knew how strong-willed and impulsive Katnin could be, gasped and dropped her spoon in surprise. Portia and Effie were both looking at him with wide eyes, and Haymitch seemed angry. Cinna, oddly enough, had a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You what?" Effie shrieked.

"I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It's like Petra said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just… I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!" he replied.

"And what did they say?" Cinna's voice was careful.

"Nothing. Or I don't know. I walked out after that."

"Without being dismissed?" Effie looked as if she were about to faint.

"I dismissed myself," he said matter-of-factly.

Haymitch seemed resigned to fate. "Well that's that." he stated, buttering a roll.

Katnin suddenly looked worried. "Do you think they'll arrest me?"

"Doubt it," Haymitch replied, mouth full. "Be a pain to replace you at this stage."

"What about my family? Will they punish them?" Katnin asked.

Haymitch continued chewing thoughtfully. "Don't think so. Wouldn't make much sense. See, they'd have to reveal what happened in the Training Center for it to have any worthwhile effect on the population. People would need to know what you did. But they can't since it's a secret, so it'd be a waste of effort. More likely they'll make your life hell in the arena."

Katnin didn't look totally reassured, so Petra decided to jump in. "Well, they've already promised to do that to us anyway."

"Very true," Haymitch added. "What were their faces like?"

Katnin smiled at the memory. "Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch."

Everyone at the table laughed, except for Effie, who smiled and spoke. "Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you're from District 12 is no excuse to ignore you. I'm sorry, but that's what I think."

"I'll get a very bad score," Katnin muttered, but he was smiling as he reached to fill his plate up with food.

Portia looked up from across the table. "Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy."

"I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get. If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot," Petra joked.

Katnin smiled, looking infinitely better than before. By the time they sat down to watch the training scores later that night, he looked almost indifferent, although Petra guessed that he was probably as nervous as she was. The scores could be important to their chances of getting sponsors.

The anthem played, and the announcers came on to do the usual preliminary introductions that Petra had seen every year watching the Games. Then the scores started. A picture of each tribute was flashed across the screen with a number in the one to twelve range, one being incredibly terrible and twelve being amazing. The Careers all scored within the eight to ten range. Most of the others averaged a five.

Petra gripped the sides of her chair as her picture came across the screen, along with the number eight. Far better than she had hoped for, so at least someone had to have been paying attention.

Katnin's score was the last one shown. Every person in their group leaned forward slightly, all interested to see how the Gamemakers would score him. The number eleven flashed across the screen.

After then initial comments and compliments, Katnin turned to Petra and congratulated her. The moment was awkward, and she had to force herself to meet his gaze.

After Katnin and Effie had gone to bed and Cinna and Portia left to discuss their interview costumes, Petra sought out Haymitch, who was pouring himself a glass of wine.

"So I've been thinking about tomorrow," she began, clearing her throat. "I want announce it during the interview. About me being in love with Katnin."

That strange look of pain flashed over Haymitch's face again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It'll help to win us sponsors. Besides, I want him to know. Since I'm going to die in the arena, I may as well tell him sometime. Better late than never, right?" she gave a humorless laugh.

"Well, alright. But I'm warning you, he might not take it very well." Haymitch warned.

"I need your help figuring out what to say. Tomorrow, I want to be coached separately. How this plays out could very well get Katnin the sponsors he needs to survive."


	8. Chapter Seven

**So, another short chapter. I do feel less guilty about putting up shorter chapters in order to post more often. I also find it's easier for me to sit down and write a new chapter than it is for me to keep working on the same one for several days.**

**The next one is going to be even shorter, pretty much just the last night before going into the arena. After that, however, I finally get to start on the Games! **

**Thank you to all of my reviewers, and to the people who added this to their favorites and alerts! You all keep me motivated.**

**Disclaimer: I'm so tired of writing these. I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**, and that is never going to change.**

The morning was a blur of instruction as Haymitch worked with Petra on her interview plan, suggesting ways to improve her image to the public. By the end of the session, both were smiling, confident in Petra's ability to capture the attention and sympathy of the public. Her natural ability with words came across well even on camera.

Effie, too, didn't have much work to do with Petra. It only took her half an hour to master walking in high heels with heavy skirts, and her smile was already charming.

"It's a good thing _you're_ a natural," Effie commented, watching Petra glide across the room. "There may be some hope for District 12 tonight after all."

She sounded so grumpy that Petra had so smile to herself. From the looks on both Katnin and Effie's faces when she had seen them coming out of their private session, their morning had not gone as smoothly as hers had. When she remembered how Katnin refused to even look at her, however, wiped off her face immediately. He had looked almost… hurt. Like she had betrayed him by choosing to be coached separately for the interviews.

_It's for his own good,_ she reminded herself. _He can't know what I'm planning for tonight_.

* * *

Her first thought was that the dress was black. It wasn't until Portia led her over to the large mirror and told her to spin around that she realized the silky material was actually dark red that flickered scarlet whenever she moved. Her hair had been curled to frame her face in long blonde ringlets, her cerulean eyes had been made up to look huge and vibrant, and her blushing cheeks stood out against her pale skin. Innocent on the surface, but a mix between deadly and protective on the inside.

"Cinna and I decided to keep with the fire theme," Portia explained, brushing a stray curl away from Petra's cheek. "You look striking. The audience will love you tonight."

They made their way to the waiting area together. Many of the other tributes were already present, milling around impatiently for the interviews to start.

Katnin arrived a few minutes after Petra. Her breath caught as she glimpsed him. His dark suit was covered in an intricate flame pattern, and shadows danced across his handsome face. Cinna and Portia had done a good job creating outfits that, although different, still complimented each other. They looked beautiful separate, but together they were radiant and dangerous, daring people to challenge them.

The anthem blared, and attendants hurried backstage to line up the tributes by district. She was slated to go last out of all the interviews. _Perfect_.

They were ushered out single-file into the row of twenty-four chairs lined up along the stage. To her right, she could see Katnin gripping the edge of his seat, grey eyes flickering around the enormous crowd of Capitol viewers. He looked as if he would rather be anywhere else than where he was.

By the time Caesar Flickerman took to the stage, wearing the same costume he used every year for the interviews, Petra had almost calmed her breathing.

After his opening jokes and comments to warm up the audience, the first tribute- the boy from District 1, Marvel- was called to the stage. Each tribute had an angle, as Haymitch had explained to her. Most of the tributes' were clear from the start. Sexy, intelligent, witty, strong, mysterious, humble. Each tribute's interview flashed by, and after three minutes, they were finished, allowing the next to take the stage.

By the time the boy from 11 finished his interview, Petra noticed that Katnin's face had a light sheen of sweat and his muscles were so tense, it was a wonder that he could move enough to get out of his seat and make his way to the front of the stage. He sat stiffly, jaw locked, waiting for Caesar to start the interview.

Caesar beams at the crowd before turning his attention to Katnin. "So, Katnin, the Capitol must be quite a change from District 12. What's impressed you most since you arrived here?"

A long pause followed before Katnin finally responded in a somewhat hoarse voice. "The lamb stew."

Both the audience and Caesar chuckle slightly, "The one with the dried plumbs?" Katnin nodded. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful. It doesn't show, does it?" he gasped in mock-horror, turning sideways. The audience laughed and reassured him that no, it didn't show.

"Now Katnin, when you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?" he inquired.

"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?" The audience laughed louder.

"Yes, start then," Caesar prompted.

Katnin glanced over to where the stylists were seated. "I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either. I mean, look at it!" He stood up and began moving quickly. All at once, the flame patterns on his suit began flickering, glowing like the fire used on their opening ceremony costumes. He slowed down, the flames dying out.

"Don't stop!" Caesar begged.

"I have to, or I'm going to fall," Katnin laughed. Caesar grabbed onto his arm.

"Don't worry, I've got you. Can't have you following in your mentor's footsteps!" he winked at the crowd, which was howling with mirth.

"So how about that training score. El-ev-en. Give us a hint at what happened in there," Caesar asked once they had taken their seats.

Katnin glanced around at the crowd. "Umm… all I can say, is I think it was a first."

"You're killing us," the interviewer moaned. "Details. Details."

"I'm not supposed to talk about it, right?" Katnin said, glancing at the Gamemakers.

"He's not!" one called out to the crowd.

"Thank you. Sorry. My lips are sealed," he quipped, shaking his head.

Caesar sensed that line of conversation was dying out. "Let's go back then, to the moment they called your brother's name at the reaping. And you volunteered. Can you tell us about him?"

"His name's Prin. He's just twelve. And I love him more than anything," Katnin's grey eyes flashed with pain. A hush had fallen over the crowd.

"What did he say to you? After the reaping?" Caesar whispered.

"He asked me to try really hard to win," Katnin responded.

"And what did you say?" Caesar asked.

Katnin lowered his eyes to glare at the floor. "I swore I would."

"I bet you did," Caesar said just as the buzzer rang out. "Sorry we're out of time. Best of luck, Katnin Everdeen, tribute from District 12. Now, let's welcome our last tribute, District 12's Petra Mellark!"

Petra straightened her back and walked up to the front of the stage as gracefully as she could to shake Caesar's hand before taking her seat.

Caesar began asking his question, and Petra remembered to pour as much charm into her responses as she could. She knew, by the laughs and cheers of the Capitol audience, that she had full command of their attention. The whole time though, she was waiting for the question Haymitch had told her Caesar was sure to ask. Sure enough, with about a minute left in her interview, Caesar rounded on her with a curious smirk on his face.

"So, tell me, Petra. Back home, is there a special someone waiting for your return?" he winked.

She lowered her eyes shyly and gave a purposefully unconvincing shake of her head.

Caesar took the bait. "Beautiful girl like you? There must be some special boy. Come on, what's his name?"

"Well… there is this one boy. I've had a crush on him ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure he didn't know I was alive until the reaping," she sighed, not having to feign the heartbroken edge in her voice. The crowd murmured in sympathy for her unrequited love.

"He have another girl?" Caesar asked.

Petra though bitterly of Gaila. "I don't know, but a lot of girls like him."

"So here's what you do. You win, you go home. He can't turn you down then, eh?" Caesar snapped his fingers, as if he had just given her the solution to all of her problems.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning… won't help in my case," she said.

"Why ever not?" Caesar asked, confused.

A real blush covered her face as she turned to look straight at the audience. "Because… because… he came here with me."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Finally! I'm finished with the first half of the book. The Games are next chapter. **

**Thank you for all of your reviews, favorites, alerts, etc.**

**allysayz- I do appreciate you pointing out my grammar mistakes. It's easier for me to fix them in the beginning. Since I'm copying a lot of the dialogue from the book, I sometimes forget to switch the pronouns. **

**December M. (anonymous reviewer)- I chose a genderswap because I've seen the switched places stories done a few times before, but I haven't found very many genderswaps. I also find it easier just to imagine Peeta as a girl and Katniss as a boy than it is for me to wrap my mind around the switched places. The characters are just so OOC, and then I start thinking of bodyswaps and then my brain explodes. Okay, not really. But still.**

**Disclaimer: The same you see every dang chapter. I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**.**

Katnin's hands came out of nowhere and connected hard with her chest, sending her flying back into an ugly urn sitting by the elevator. Petra shrieked as the urn broke, shards scattering across the floor. She landed in the mess, the broken pieces immediately cutting into her palms. Blood immediately began gushing from the wounds.

"What was that for?" she gasped. Katnin was towering above her, his face red from anger.

"You had no right!" he shouted. "No right to go saying those things about me!"

The ding of the elevator signaled the arrival of the rest of the adults. Their conversation stopped as they noticed the scene before them.

"What's going on?" Effie asked. "Did you fall?"

"After he shoved me," she snapped as Effie and Cinna pulled her to her feet. Haymitch rounded on Katnin.

"Shoved her?"

"This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?" Katnin snarled at him.

"It was my idea," Petra said. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

He focused back on her. "Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!"

"You _are_ a fool," Haymitch snarled. "Do you think she hurt you? The girl just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

"She made me look weak!"

"She made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until she said she wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District 12!" Haymitch said, glaring at Katnin.

"We're not star-crossed lovers!" Katnin shouted.

Haymitch pinned him against the wall, anger finally taking over. "Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, although that in itself was a small miracle. Now I can say you're a heartbreaker. Oh, oh, oh, how the girls back home fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you more sponsors?"

Katnin shoved Haymitch away, looking slightly doubtful, but not nearly as angry. Cinna took the opportunity to jump in. "He's right, Katnin."

"I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid," Katnin said, sounding unsure of himself.

"No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real," Portia reassured him.

Petra, who had been busy picking bloody shards out of her hands, spoke up. "He's just worried about his girlfriend." She thought of Gaila, the jealousy even more painful than the wounds on her hands.

Katnin glared at her, but he was blushing faintly. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Whatever. I bet she's smart enough to know a bluff when she sees it. Besides, _you _didn't say you loved _me_. So what's the harm?"

His anger seemed to have dissipated. He turned to the adults, asking if his reaction to her confession was alright, if it looked like he might have been in love with her, too. Finally, he turned to her, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry I shoved you."

"Doesn't matter. Although it's technically illegal," she shrugged.

"Are your hands okay?" he asked, looking concerned.

She winced. "They'll be alright."

Their growling stomachs and the delicious smells emitting from the dining room reminded them all that it was time to eat. No one seemed to have much to say, and they all settled down to eat.

It soon became evident that Petra's hands were bleeding too heavily for her to eat. When Portia offered to take her to a medic, she was grateful. The droplets of blood scattered in her soup and dripping down her spoon had ruined her appetite.

* * *

Her feet made no sound as she padded across the cool tiled floor of the roof. The sounds of the party below were even louder than her first night on the roof with Cinna. The Games were tomorrow, and everyone else seemed to be celebrating. Although she knew she needed sleep before the Games, she knew that it was possibly her last night alive. She didn't want to waste it sleeping.

The bright lights surrounding her blocked out the stars, but she remembered how they looked from home. Silent and beautiful, they shone above her, reminding her that there were other things outside of District 12, outside of Panem. Their sad little planet was not all that was left.

The human race was to blame for all of their planet's current troubles. People had killed each other nearly to extinction, and the government that had risen from the destruction was corrupt and evil. The Capitol fools, dancing in the streets below her, were not to blame. They had been lied to just as much as the people in the districts. The Hunger Games was not a reminder of how war had nearly destroyed humans, but a way to remind the districts that they were at the Capitol's mercy. And now she was a part of it all.

From the partying Capitol citizens looking forward to watching children slaughter each other in an arena where only one would come out of, the Gamemakers who planned the brutal event, the members of the government who enforced the law, to the Career tributes that had trained their whole lives to become Victors, the innocent children whose luck was not in their favor, and the people in the districts working hard for a leader that let them slowly and wither and die far before their time was supposed to be up- so many people were affected by the Games in one way or another.

Petra knew that, given the choice, she wouldn't be any one of those people. Instead, she thought of the trees beyond the fence and the wild creatures that lived there. They were allowed to live-and die- totally free, unlike people, caged in by fences, with no future but to work, the whole time waiting for death. The whole time, puppets of the Capitol.

"You should be getting some sleep."

The sound of his voice startled her, but she didn't turn around.

"I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all," she said.

Katnin appeared beside her and leaned up against the railing, squinting down at the party below. "Are they in costumes?"

"Who can tell? With all the crazy clothes they wear here. Couldn't sleep, either?" she sighed.

"Couldn't turn my mind off," he replied.

"Thinking about your family?" she asked.

"No. All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course." His eyes flickered down to her bandaged hands. "I really am sorry about your hands."

"It doesn't matter, Katnin. I've never been a contender in these Games anyway," Petra whispered.

"That's no way to be thinking," he criticized.

"Why not? It's true. My best hope is not to disgrace myself and…" she trailed off.

"And what?" he prompted.

She rubbed her temple with one of her bandaged hands. "I don't know how to say it exactly. Only… I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" When he shook his head, she continued. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

"Do you mean you won't kill anyone?" Katnin asked.

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece of their Games," she said.

Katnin turned to look at her. "But you're not. None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"Okay, but within that framework, there's still you, and there's still me," she insisted. "Don't you see?"

"A little. Only… no offense, but who cares, Petra?"

"I do," she looked him in the eye, trying to make him understand. "I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?"

He backed away from her. "Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

"Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart," she patronized. He glowered at her and stormed back inside, shutting the door to his room as loudly as he could without waking everyone else up.

The answer came to her a few minutes after Katnin left. Her plan to keep him alive _was_ something that the Capitol would never be able to change or take away. She was defying them and their inhumane Games.

And she was going to do it for all of Panem to see.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be posted last night, but my internet stopped working (stupid computers.) Thank you for your patience, reviews, etc. I hate to beg, but it is true that the more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to write the next chapter.**

******The girl from District 4 didn't have a name in the book, so I just took the name of the person who played her in the movie.**

**There's a scene at the end of this chapter that I was a little iffy about putting in, but I did. I'm not sure people will agree with it, but I'll save my explanation for the end of this chapter. I don't want to spoil anything.**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**.**

The bright sun blinded Petra as her cylinder rose up into the open air. In front of her was the Cornucopia, a giant golden horn filled with a plethora of supplies that would be useful for survival. All twenty-four tributes were situated on metal circles equidistant from the mouth of the horn. They were required to stand on their circles for sixty seconds, or they would be blown up by the land mines embedded in the ground.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!" the announcer, Claudius Templesmith's, voice echoed throughout the arena. The minute countdown began.

After a quick scan of the landscape, Petra quickly turned towards the other tributes. About five spaces to her left she spotted Katnin. He was staring fixedly at the Cornucopia, and she realized his gaze was trained toward the bow and arrows near the center of the pile.

_Don't go for it!_ She desperately hoped he would follow Haymitch's earlier advice to avoid the bloodbath and run away immediately to find a source of water. Even some of the strongest tributes could easily be killed in the first day.

As if sensing her gaze, Katnin turned to look at her. She shook her head, eyes pleading with him to run away as soon as the gong rang out. He looked torn for a second, and then seemed to make up his mind.

"Five… four… three… two… one…"

_Boom_!

All hell broke loose as twenty-four tributes sprinted free from their metal circles. Most headed toward the Cornucopia, including Katnin. Petra turned and sprinted for the trees, dodging around the girl from District 6, who was fixated on a spear located several yards in front of her. In the few seconds Petra witnessed, the Career from District 1 snatched up the weapon and drove it through her throat.

Upon reaching the edge of the forest, Petra found a large clump of bushes. It was not a great hiding place, but it would keep her concealed from the tributes quickly fleeing from the bloodbath. More importantly, it gave her a mostly unobstructed view of the Cornucopia.

The boy from District 5 was running for the trees, armed with a water canteen and some sort of axe-like weapon. He stumbled, suddenly collapsing, and Petra noticed the knife sticking out of his back, thrown by the District 2 girl, who was already aiming at her next target, the District 9 girl.

As quickly as she could, Petra darted out toward the District 5 boy's body. The recognition faded from his eyes as he looked at her, his final breath leaving his body. She grabbed the knife sticking out of him and yanked it out. Ignoring his other supplies, she took cover back in the trees to look for a new hiding spot.

Once she was sure she wasn't in plain sight, she grabbed a handful of leaves to wipe off the red stains dripping down the smooth metal. The feel of it oozing down between her fingers sickened her somewhat, but she knew she would have to learn to get used to dealing with the blood. After all, she had accidentally cut herself while baking numerous times, and she had always treated her own injuries.

After about an hour, the last screams from the Cornucopia began to fade, and Petra watched as the five remaining Career tributes began to pick through the supplies, arming themselves for the hunt. Bodies were strewn across the landscape in various states of abuse, waiting to be picked up by the Capitol hovercraft and cleaned up before being shipped back to their district for burial.

Slowly, cautiously Petra emerged from the trees. None of the Careers noticed her as she approached, her hands held out in front of her as a gesture of surrender. The knife was clutched in sweaty fingers, on display for them. She had grabbed it in case her negotiations turned sour, but she knew it would help her chances of survival if they were able to see that, while she was armed, she had no intention of trying to attack them.

The District 4 girl, whose name Petra remembered to be Tara, spotted her first. Her cry of alarm alerted the others to Petra's presence.

Five Careers surrounded her, weapons pointed straight at her, prepared to kill her at a moment's notice. The boy from District 4 was missing; either setting up the Career's camp at the Cornucopia or dead. From amount of bodies laid out around the field, Petra guessed it was the latter.

They seemed to be sizing her up, slowly looking her up and down while weighing what they knew about her. The girl from District 2- Clove- disarmed her. Finally, the District 2 boy spoke up. "What do you want, 12?" he sneered. "Are you suicidal or just plain stupid? Where's your boyfriend now?"

Petra gave a cold laugh. "My boyfriend? I left that idiot behind. The truth is, I've been looking forward to his death ever since the reaping. The fake romance was my plan to get him to trust me. He's not very bright, but the forest close to our district is very much like this arena. I know his survival skills in this terrain, and I wouldn't count him out just yet. It's best if we take him down early. And that's where you come in."

"And why would you think we'll help you?" Cato asked, but Petra knew she had his attention.

"I need to track him down. Like I said before, he has experience in a forest like this," she explained. "It could take me days to find him. I figure the sooner he's dead, the better. I'm assuming you want him dead, too? After all, the Gamemakers seemed to think he showed potential."

Petra could see them mulling over her words. She didn't dare reveal anything else about Katnin's skills, but she needed them to think that Katnin was a threat to them. If they believed Katnin was a threat, they would be more likely to allow her into the Career pack, at least until they had found and killed him.

Before she could become a Career, though, Petra knew that she would have one more test to pass. They had already established why she wanted to join their hunt, but in order to become a Career, she had to show some sort of skill. Otherwise, she would just be dead weight to them. She had scored an eight in the evaluations, which was in the range of Career scores, albeit a low Career score, but they still needed some kind of demonstration to prove her worth.

She knew that Cato had taken on the position of leader of the Careers, and the other tributes would wait for his signal before attacking her. Since she knew they were testing her, not necessarily just out to kill her, she guessed that it would be only one tribute that would fight her.

Sure enough, Cato's eyes lingered for an extra second on the boy from District 1, Marvel. Moments later, Petra dodged as one of his spears went whizzing over her shoulder. Before he could throw another spear, she slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. He was bigger than her, but she was at least as strong as he was, and she had the element of surprise on her side. None of the Career tributes had been anticipating her strength.

He rolled on top of her, but she dug her feet into his stomach and threw him off of her. Suddenly, the fight was just another wrestling match with her brothers.

The tussle ended with them both on the ground. Petra had Marvel in a headlock, while Marvel snatched up a knife that had been abandoned on the ground and stabbed her in what he could reach of her arm. She grunted and managed to twist the knife out of his grasp.

"Stop," Cato said coolly, bringing the fight to a halt. He seemed to have made his decision. "She stays with us."

The other Careers exchanged glances, but no one questioned him. Clove warily handed Petra her knife back.

She had made it into the Career pack.

* * *

Clove and Tara had found the boy from District 3 as they patrolled the outside of the clearing where the Careers were setting up camp with all of the supplies. He had stammered out something about helping the Careers keep the supplies safe by reactivating the bombs planted by the starting plates. The explanation that followed was so long and complicated that Petra wondered if the Careers kept him just because he sounded smart.

Among the supplies at the Cornucopia were several sleeping bags. Petra took one and situated it near the others, not wanting to be too far away. She then went back to the Cornucopia to inspect the food supplies. It had been decided that she would make the meal for everyone while they split up to check their surroundings.

As she was sifting through a large stack of weapons, looking for something to start a fire with (no other tribute would dare attack the Career base camp, so it was safe to start a fire) she heard a faint noise behind her.

An arm wrapped around her waist and threw her to the ground. Petra's head hit the ground hard, and before she had time to process what was happening, someone was on top of her, pinning her down. Cato's face loomed above her, suspicious and dangerous.

"You've made it into our alliance for now. But that doesn't mean we're not watching you. If it turns out you're lying about your intentions..." he trailed off, pressing the blade of his sword harder against her throat, his nose only centimeters away from her own. "Even your _sweetheart_ won't be able to save you then."

Cato got off her and disappeared back to the other side of the camp. Petra waited for her breathing to calm down before she slowly pulled herself off the ground, rubbing at her aching head.

And even though neither Cato nor Petra gave any acknowledgement to the confrontation for the rest of the night, Petra made sure to keep her knife close to her.

* * *

**So, an explanation of that last scene:**

**Cato was trying to intimidate Petra. She wasn't too afraid when confronting all of them together, so he was trying to unsettle her. He doesn't trust her not to double-cross them. I mean, would you?**

**Also, no, I don't believe he is a totally horrible person. To me, he's just a kid that's been taught his whole life to win at all costs. He's not afraid of playing dirty.**

**I don't want to hear about how Cato wouldn't do something like that, etc. Your opinion is welcome, but only if you have something constructive to say. Let me just reiterate: I do not want hate! If you don't like it, then you don't have to read it!**


	11. Chapter Ten

**Too long between updates. Again. I'm such a slacker.**

**To be honest, I hate this chapter. I thought about not putting it up, but I feel bad about the lack of updates, and I need to move on with the story. This is a major filler chapter. More action in the next one.**

**Remember, the more response I get, the more motivated I am to write the next chapter!**

**With that being said, thank you for all of your feedback. It really does help me out.**

**Disclaimer: How many of these must I put up? We've already established that I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**. **

Petra awoke to someone shaking her shoulder violently. She opened her eyes to see Glimmer standing above her, her eyes cold and suspicious as she informed them that everyone except for the boy from District 3, who was in charge of guarding the camp, would be packing up to hunt for tributes. Stifling her yawn, Petra rose.

The sky was still black with night, and she guessed she had only been asleep for a couple of hours. The frigid air made her shiver as she reluctantly climbed out of her sleeping bag, wiping sleep from her eyes.

The other tributes were just waking up, but they already looked livelier than she felt. Petra knew they were excited for the hunt. She tried not to look exhausted, knowing that with her tedious hold on her place in the Career pack, showing anything that could be taken as weakness would get her thrown out or- most likely- killed. Even as she gathered the supplies she would need to travel, she could feel Cato's menacing gaze on her, monitoring her.

Once they had all grabbed the supplies they needed to last them for a few days, the Career pack moved out into the woods.

The Careers didn't seem to care about being quiet or discreet as they charged through the forest. It was as if they were daring the other tributes to come and attack them. Petra knew that they were spoiling for a good fight, hoping to add to the body count that had been projected on the sky earlier that night.

The dead tributes. Eleven so far, and probably more to come before dawn. Eleven children that would never see home again, all because their names were picked by chance out of all the other kids in the district. Before the end of these games, Petra would be joining them.

_At least Katnin is still alive,_ she thought, although she knew that he was the tribute the Careers were most eager to eliminate. Still, she was going to try her best to protect him.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Petra was beginning to think they wouldn't find another tribute that night. Her feet ached and the lack of sleep was catching up with her.

The rest of the Careers seemed almost to feel the same way, and there was talk of finding someplace to camp for the night. Suddenly, Clove froze, her eyes on a column of smoke rising off of the distance.

Someone had decided to start a fire.

Even Petra knew it was a stupid thing to do, although she couldn't help but sympathize with whoever it was. The frigid air made her whole body feel like ice, and despite the fact that she had been moving around for hours with a couple extra layers of clothes on, her teeth were chattering.

Revived, the Career pack raced through the woods towards their prey, Cato once again taking over as leader.

The girl from District 8 was huddled close to the flames as their group of six burst through the covering. She screamed in terror, but seemed to know that it would do her no good to try to run away.

"Scream all you want," Clove said, flashing her knife menacingly. "Nobody's going to come save you now."

"Please… please don't…" the girl pleaded, drawing laughter from the Careers, who were circling her like a pack of wild dogs would prey.

It took several minutes for them to grow tired of her. Finally, Cato slashed his sword through her stomach in an almost sloppy manner, as if he didn't really care anymore. The girl stopped screaming and slumped to the ground while the Careers rooted through her supplies, looking for anything good and grunting in disgust when they found nothing worthwhile.

"Twelve down and eleven to go!" Glimmer cried out gleefully, earning a round of enthusiastic hoots from the others.

Cato surveyed the scene. "Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking." He led the way through the trees, stopping near a couple of willow trees to root through the supplies.

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" Tara asked.

Marvel thought about it. "I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead," Clove pointed out.

"She's dead. I stuck her myself," Cato growled.

"Then where's the cannon?" Clove snapped back.

"Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done," Glimmer suggested.

"Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice," Marvel agreed.

"I said she's dead!" Cato argued.

Above the argument, Petra heard the faint rustle of a branch. Trying to be inconspicuous, she glanced up towards the tree. Through the branches, a little bit of a bright orange backpack and the corner of a sleeping bag were visible. She strained her eyes upward. Her breath hitched when she caught a quick flash of a face she recognized as Katnin's.

Terrified at the thought of the Career pack finding him, she made up her mind. Clearing her throat, and she shouted out to be heard above the other voices. "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

The others fell silent, and Cato turned to her. "Go on, then, Lover Girl. See for yourself."

As she walked away from them, she heard their faint whispered conversation, and knew they were discussing whether or not to kill her. She didn't look back.

The girl was curled up on the ground, trying to keep her intestines from spilling out through the gash across her stomach. Her breathing was faint, but she still seemed several minutes away from death. Her eyes slowly flitted open when Petra approached.

"Please," she whispered, but this time Petra knew she was begging for another reason.

"I'm sorry," Petra murmured, leaning over the girl and drawing her knife across her throat. The girl's eyes closed.

As Petra returned to the Career pack, the sound of the cannon rang out through the silent forest.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**I'm still trying to keep to my goal of posting every 3 or 4 days. I guess I'm doing alright, especially considering the end of the school year is coming up, and my teachers are piling up on work. Oh well, it's almost over.**

**Anyways, here's the next chapter. I think I'm ready for a week-long nap at this point. At least it's Tuesday.**

**Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**.**

The first thing Petra noticed was the heat. It roused her from her sleep, giving her the first clue that something was wrong. It was hotter, less humid than the usual daytime temperature in the arena. And that early in the morning, it should only just be warming up.

Her second clue was the slight crackling, roaring noise in the air. It wasn't something she had heard before in the arena. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't good.

Her third and final clue was the most obvious. Upon opening her eyes, it was impossible to miss the bright red wall of fire eating up everything in its path. It was still about half a mile away, she could see it down the hill, but it was traveling quickly, and would soon reach the spot where they had camped out for the night.

This was no tribute fire that had gotten slightly out of control. This was a full on, Gamemaker engineered, forest fire.

It had been two days since she had seen Katnin, since she had killed the girl from District 8. The Career pack was still hunting, but there hadn't been much action. Apparently, the Gamemakers had just decided to liven things up.

The yells and screams from the other tributes told Petra that they were waking up as well. Tara, who was supposed to be on guard, had fallen asleep as well. They grabbed everything they could carry that was essential for survival and began running in the opposite direction of the fire.

It wasn't long before she was huffing and struggling to breath. She could run some distance, but she had never been particularly fast. It was much harder to keep up with the Career tributes, who were all in good shape and who had been trained their whole lives for both endurance and speed. In addition, the heavy smoke that hung in the air didn't make breathing any easier.

A fireball flew out of nowhere, catching on Glimmer's sleeve. She screamed and beat out the flames that were starting to lick up the arm of her jacket.

"Fireballs!" she yelled, as if it weren't already obvious. Suddenly, their running became a game of dodging the fireballs as well.

Petra felt a searing pain across her chest as something crashed into her, knocking her to the ground. A fireball had come from the side, swiping across her chest. Her jacket was off, wrapped around her other supplies to hold everything together, but the front of her shirt was on fire.

She ripped off the burning shirt and smothered the flames, but her skin was already damaged. To what extent, she couldn't be sure until she had time to examine it later.

Quickly stumbling back onto her feet, she followed the sounds of the others crashing through the trees, yelling as balls of flames exploded near them, occasionally setting fire to a nearby tree or bush.

It took a couple of miles, but finally Petra spotted a stream trickling down through the trees. Several of the Careers cheered, and she would have joined in if she had the breath to spare. The stream meant the end of the fire.

Petra stood in the water with the rest of the Careers, catching her breath and checking her body for burns. Aside from the one on her chest, she hadn't been hit. The burn on her chest wasn't too terrible, but her skin was an angry red color, already shiny and inflamed. The cool water helped with the pain a little.

Despite the heat, she put her jacket back on and zipped it up. Large chunks of her shirt and underclothes were burned, exposing her skin in some places. None of the others seemed to notice that she had been wounded, and she preferred to keep it that way.

Cato was the first to recover. A sadistic grin flashed across his face. "You know what this means, don't you?" he asked. Everyone else looked at him. "The Gamemakers are pushing us closer together. The other tributes will all be looking for water. I'll bet you there's someone else close by."

Petra understood that to mean that they were going hunting again.

_Katnin_, she realized. _He was back in that part of the woods. If he did make it out there's a chance that he'll be close by._

Trying to ignore the fear building up inside her, she followed Cato's lead down the stream.

For more than a couple of hours, Petra kept watch for Katnin, scanning the surrounding trees and hoping that the other Careers wouldn't spot him. Half of forest was scorched, and chances were that they were going to run into someone along the river.

Suddenly, Cato let out a shout and began running down the stream, chasing something- or rather, someone.

_Don't let it be him, don't let it be him, don't let it be him…_ Her heart sank.

It was him.

Katnin was sprinting through the underbrush not far ahead of the pack. Although he had about a slight lead on them, Petra noticed that his gait was off, like he was injured. Her stomach plummeted further when she caught a glimpse of his bloody, burned leg. It was far worse than her burn, and hers was bad enough. She couldn't imagine the pain he was in.

Despite the fact that Petra and the five Careers were all pretty beat-up as well, they were closing in on Katnin.

He seemed to sense that, outnumbered and injured as he was, he wouldn't be able to outrun them. Instead, Petra saw him dash to the base of a fairly tall tree and start climbing. He was 20 feet up by the time Petra and the Careers had circled the tree.

"How's everything with you?" Katnin called down to them cheerfully.

Several of the Careers looked at him as if he was quite mad, but Cato responded. "Well enough. Yourself?"

"It's a bit warm for my taste," Katnin quipped. "The air's better up here. Why don't you come up?"

"Think I will," Cato responded to the challenge.

"Here, take this, Cato," Glimmer said, trying to hand him the bow and arrow. As far as Petra had seen, none of the Careers were at all skilled with it. She could only imagine the kind of damage Katnin could do if he was in possession of it.

She sensed him trying to catch her eye, but fearing the look she knew she'd see, her gaze remained fixated on her knife as she polished it with her jacket.

"No," Cato shoved the bow away from him. "I'll do better with my sword."

As Cato started to haul himself up the tree, Katnin turned and scampered even farther up the branches. By the time the branches cracked and gave way under Cato, Katnin had more than doubled his distance.

Glimmer had decided to try next. She began climbing until the branches started creaking underneath her. Unlike Cato, she had the sense to climb down before she fell.

Next, she tried to use the bow to shoot him. Petra wondered why she even bothered to grab it, since she was such a poor archer. One arrow lodged into the tree near Katnin, and he waved it above his head, taunting them.

Katnin's actions only incited the Careers more. Angry about him making them look foolish, they stood around, discussing how to kill him as twilight began to fall.

Finally, Petra decided it was once again time for her to end their bickering. "Oh, let him stay up there. It's not like he's going anywhere. We'll deal with him in the morning."

Loath as they were to admit it and let Katnin stay in his tree, Petra was right. There was nothing they could do about it at the time.

From where she set up her sleeping bag, Petra had a perfect view of both Katnin and all of the Careers. She situated herself in a deliberately uncomfortable position, willing herself not to fall asleep least the Careers manage to figure out how to kill Katnin.

By the time the anthem blared over the arena, it was too dark for her to see Katnin, but she knew he was still stuck up there, unable to get out of the tree. Meanwhile, she was trying to figure out how to get him out of the situation alive.

* * *

She wasn't asleep when the nest hit the ground. However, she might as well have been for all the good staying awake had done her.

Sluggish and disoriented from exhaustion and injuries, Petra's mind registered the attacking tracker jack bugs a few seconds too late. The rest of the Careers had woken up by that time, and the more sensible ones- Petra included- dropped most of their supplies and sprinted away from the angry mob of venomous bugs.

With cries of "To the lake! To the lake!" they darted through the underbrush, not checking to see who else was following. From the bloodcurdling shrieks of terror behind her, Petra knew at least one Career hadn't made it away.

Petra felt several pricks of searing pain as several of the tracker jacks targeted her. One after the other, until she had four different lumps swelling from the stingers.

She dove into the water, holding her breath for as long as possible before quickly sneaking up for air. The water felt incredibly deep, and every gentle trickle of the stream felt like a tidal wave, buffeting her against the rocks, trying to drown her.

Through the thick fog that was slowly infiltrating her mind, one coherent thought surfaced: Katnin.

Dragging herself out of the water, Petra took off in what she hoped was the direction she had come from. Another tracker jack stung her, but she kept going. Two cannons sounded, and Petra hoped it wasn't for Katnin.

Tara's lumpy body tripped Petra as she ran, sending her sprawling to the ground. The last meal she had eaten rolled around in her stomach, and she pressed her lips together tightly to keep from losing it.

Regaining her feet, she spotted the tree they had camped under. Underneath it, Katnin was struggling with an almost unrecognizable body. Only the long blonde hair and the bow and arrows that Katnin was trying to remove allowed Petra to identify the dead girl as Glimmer.

_What is he doing?_ Petra panicked. The terror cleared her mind slightly, and she stumbled toward him, screaming. "What are you still doing here? Are you mad?" She jabbed at him with one of Marvel's abandoned spears, willing him to run away. "Get up! Get up!" Katnin staggered upright, confusion in his eyes. She yelled louder, trying to make him understand the danger. Already, she could hear the sound of one of the Careers crashing towards them. "Run! Run!"

Katnin finally responded. Stumbling away from her, he moved away through the trees, still in sight of the furious and deadly Cato.

The only thing Petra knew at that point was she had to stall Cato. Throwing the spear got his attention, although it did not wound or even hit him.

He turned to her, sword drawn. All she had was her knife, clearly no match for him, even if she were healthy. Her only consolation was that he was badly stung and injured as well.

The first slash was easy enough to deflect. She stabbed back, but he much better trained than her. Petra only heard bits and pieces of what he was yelling, but she understood things like "traitor," "knew it from the start," and "shouldn't have trusted you."

It wasn't long before Cato had her pinned against the tree, weapon at her throat. She closed her eyes, prepared for death. Instead, she felt a horrid pain in her left leg as his blade ripped through her skin and muscles, right down to the bone. He let go of her and she slid to the ground, hands trying to staunch the blood already gushing from the wound.

"Just you wait and see." Cato snarled as he backed off into the bushes. "When you're time is up, Lover Girl, he won't come. He was never going to come save you."

And for the first time since the start of the Games, Petra truly was on her own.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**I'm kind of angry with myself. I feel like the quality of my writing has gone down recently. If you couldn't tell already, my weakness is dialogue. It's okay in the parts that I'm copying from the book, but I'm always stuck when I have to figure out what my characters would say. I think it's because, while I've done a lot or writing for school, I hardly ever get to do creative writing, especially with stories that include dialogue. Oh well. I'm hoping to improve over time. Maybe writing Fanfiction will actually help me to improve. **

**Still, thank you for all of your reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. I really appreciate the support.**

**Useless disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games. **

Petra wasn't quite sure how much time had passed since her dreams had started. The tracker jack venom had knocked her unconscious and filled her head with twisted nightmares filled with pieces of home, the arena, and Katnin. Always Katnin.

A couple of times she heard the anthem playing, and she watched for signs of the dead tributes, just lucid enough to recognize that after Glimmer and Tara, no one else had died yet.

When she finally came to, Petra realized the danger of her position. She was lying by the river, barely concealed by a clump of bushes. The Careers had been scattered for the moment, but Cato, Clove, and Marvel were still alive. Not to mention the other surviving tributes, any of whom could be a threat to her.

Slowly, cautiously, she pulled herself into a sitting position. The pain from her injured leg suddenly made its presence known and she fell back down, tears springing to her eyes and a cold sweat breaking out across her clammy skin. She barely had time to turn her head to the side before she was retching, splattering the contents of her stomach into the weeds beside her.

It took several more minutes for her mind to clear enough for her to register that she wasn't just getting sick from the pain. Already, the fever had spread through her, weakening her tired body. Her heart sank.

Although it had only been a few days before, the time spent training in the Capitol felt like it had happened years before. Petra remembered the trainer's warning, about how sometimes, more tributes died from infection and the elements than from fights with other tributes.

One look at the tight, inflamed skin on her leg showed her just how bad the injury was. She could barely move her leg, making walking next to impossible. Also crippling her were her other injuries, the worst of which was the burn across her chest, although her bruises, cut arm, and tracker jack stings were painful enough as it was. She would have no chance of escape if a tribute or hungry animal were to stumble upon her.

Instead, she formed a different survival strategy. Despite the fact that she was almost certain she was going to die from illness, her basic human instincts were pushing her to keep fighting. If she couldn't defend herself, then she would just have to find a way to hide from the danger.

After several false starts, she managed to get herself into a position to drag herself to the water bank. She remembered stumbling down to the water after Cato injured her, trying to clean up the blood spatters on the rocks to prevent them from leading a predator right to her. At least she had ended up near water.

Once at the bank, Petra took stock of her possessions. A canister for water, some iodine drops, a few crackers, her scorched clothing, and of course, her knife. Not much, but she would have to make do.

First, she decided to purify some water for drinking. She wasn't particularly thirsty, but she knew water was essential for her survival, and in her condition, drinking wouldn't hurt her.

In hope that she would be able to settle her stomach, she managed to force down two crackers before her stomach twisted and she vomited again. Even the water didn't sit well with her, reappearing alongside a lot of acidic-tasting bile.

Giving up on eating, she instead began to set up a space for her to hide out. She buried most of her body under a layer of plants and mud, leaving only the top of her torso sticking out.

Starting with her arms, she swirled bits of mud all over her skin, creating a pattern that blended in perfectly with the muddy ground around her. Her face and hair were harder to disguise because she could not see what she was doing, but she eventually decided that she was camouflaged enough.

By the time the anthem played and the pictures of the boy from District 10 and the boy from District 3 flashed across the sky, she was so weak that she could barely move. Lying back against the ground, exhaustion overcame her.

All that was left to do was wait for death.

* * *

The boom of the cannon jolted her from her sleep. The sound was quickly followed by another cannon shot, meaning two tributes had just died. Given the closeness of the two deaths, Petra guessed the tributes had died in the same attack.

Later on that night, when it came time for the tribute deaths to be announced, she learned the deaths earlier were Marvel and the little girl from District 11, Rue.

So another Career was down. One less person to worry about. But Rue… she was so young, and to have died simply because the Capitol had chosen her to was another reminder of how evil the Capitol and its Games were.

The next day brought no more deaths, and Petra had already written it off as an uneventful day when the trumpets blared in the sky.

The sound immediately captured her attention. Trumpets always signaled an announcement, usually an invitation for tributes to attend a feast. This time, however, Claudius Templesmith was announcing something different. A rule change that would allow two tributes from the same district to both be crowned as victors of the Hunger Games.

It took several seconds for Petra to understand what it meant. She and Katnin could both return home if they were the last two to survive.

She wondered if he would come for her. Did he care enough to look for her? She hadn't actually spoken to him since the start of the Games, and the last time she had seen him, she had been allied with the Careers. Even if he did come, would he be able to find her? He wouldn't know where she was hiding, and she was camouflaged well. There was also the possibility that he was injured or in a position where he wouldn't be able to search for her. She certainly wouldn't be able to go to him.

For more than a day, she lay on the bank, wondering if he would come. Weak, injured, and sick, she knew she wouldn't be able to live much longer if she didn't get help soon.

The midday sun was burning brightly before she heard something. The sound of someone quietly calling her name.

Katnin had come for her.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Ahh, I am lame. This chapter is much shorter than I intended for it to be. My ending point was supposed to be much farther along, but I figured that I would just incorporate it into the next chapter. Forgive me.**

**It actually takes me much longer to do chapters with dialogue. I don't have a Kindle or whatever, so my copy of **_**The Hunger Games**_** is paperback. I have to keep flipping between opening the book to memorize the line and typing the line out. I don't normally like everything to be electronic, but this is one of those times when an electronic way to read would be helpful.**

**Thank you for all your reviews, etc. I love that people are taking the time to read this fic, especially since this is the first time I've written anything for this site. **

**Oh, and I don't know how everyone else feels about it, but I hate the new picture thing on Fanfiction. I find it distracting. Maybe it's just me.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, never will.**

"Petra?" Katnin's whisper just barely reached her over the sound of the stream gurgling next to her. She heard a small splash as he stepped into the water, almost next to her head.

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" she croaked, her voice hoarse from illness and lack of use. She cracked her eye open just enough to see him standing next to her, searching for her.

"Petra? Where are you?" His eyes traveled right over her, and she was flattered, realizing that her disguise was so good that he couldn't find her despite the fact that he was almost on top of her and inching even closer. "Petra?"

"Well, don't step on me." Katnin leapt away from her as she laughed and opened her eyes. He looked shocked, and then almost eager.

"Close your eyes again," he ordered. She complied, and he looked even more impressed as he studied the spot where she lay. "I guess all those hours decorating cakes finally paid off."

She smiled, but she couldn't help but think of the reason why she had to resort to camouflage in the first place. "Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying."

"You're not going to die," Katnin assured her.

"Says who?"

"Say's me we're on the same team now, you know," he said.

"So, I heard," she said, almost bitterly. "Nice of you to find what's left of me."

Katnin knelt next to her, tipping some of his water down her throat. "Did Cato cut you?"

"Left leg. Up high," she gasped.

"Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kinds of wounds you've got," he suggested.

"Lean down a minute first. Need to tell you something," she said. He complied, and when his ear was next to her mouth, she whispered to him. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind," he laughed. However, as soon as he tried to move her, all the laughter drained from his face as he understood the severity of her condition.

The mud, which had been disguising her body, now acted as a kind of prison that Petra, weak, injured, and ill, was unable to free herself from. Katnin finally had to tug her out. Despite her attempts to keep quiet, she could not help but moan in pain.

"Look, Petra, I'm going to roll you into the stream. It's very shallow here, okay," Katnin said once she was finally free.

Bracing herself for the pain, she managed to hiss out a response. "Excellent."

He dug his hands underneath her, preparing to push her. "On three. One, two, three!" The pain that racked through her entire body caused her to cry out, and he stopped pushing immediately. The look on his face reflected back her pain, and she knew that he was blaming himself for hurting her more.

Resting on the edge of the water, Katnin decided to try a different tactic. "Okay, change of plans. I'm not going to put you all the way in."

Temporary relief flooded through her. "No more rolling?"

"That's all done," he confirmed. "Let's get you cleaned up. Keep an eye on the woods for me, okay?"

Katnin continually filled up two water bottles and a water skin before dumping them onto her mud-encrusted body. With each repetition more filth washed away, until her grungy clothes and bruised skin were visible. Propping her up on a boulder, he seemed to decide his next step.

He removed her jacket and cut away her damaged shirt to get a better view of her wounds. Blushing and averting his eyes from her almost naked torso, he pulled out a pot of something and several strange leaves. After applying the cream inside the container to her burned chest, he focused on her tracker jack stings. Chewing up the leaves, he dug the stingers out of the swollen lumps and spat out globs of leaves and saliva onto her skin. The pain leached away, and she sighed in relief as the pain in her upper body was alleviated.

Feeling her forehead, Katnin seemed to notice her fever for the first time. Digging through the pack he carried, he handed her a couple of fever pills. "Swallow these," he ordered, and although she doubted they would help much, she took them obediently.

"You must be hungry," he commented.

"Not really," she replied. "It's funny. I haven't been hungry for days."

"Petra, we need to get some food in you," he insisted, offering her some of the meat he was carrying.

"It'll just come right back up," she refused, trying not to throw up at the smell of the food. He offered some apple slices instead and, not wanting to argue, she managed to force them down.

Despite still feeling terrible, all Petra wanted to do was rest. "Thanks. I'm much better now. Can I sleep not, Katnin?"

"Soon," he promised. "I need to look at your leg first"

Turning to her leg, Katnin took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for the worst, before slowly sliding off her shoes, socks, and pants. Now clad only in her underclothes, she knew how sickly she looked. Aside from the injuries, her skin was pale and sallow, her ribs clearly visible, her muscles gone.

The cut itself looked worse than when she had first stumbled down to the stream. It was a light green color, swollen and shiny, and reeked of infection.

Katnin looked as if he were about to be sick. "Pretty awful, huh?" she asked, studying his face.

He tried to keep his expression neutral. "So-so. You should see some of the people they bring my mother from the mines." His eyes clouded over in memory before he frowned in concentration. "First thing to do is clean it well. We're going to have to experiment some."

Digging out more of the leaves he had used on her tracker jack stings and applying them to the gash caused pus to begin dripping out of the wound. Katnin's face turned a delicate shade of green.

"Katnin? How about that kiss?" she mouthed, hoping to distract him, and succeeded in making him laugh. "Something wrong?" Her voice was innocent.

"I…I'm no good at this," he admitted. "I'm not my mother. I've no idea what I'm doing and I hate pus. Euh! Euuuh!"

"How do you hunt?" she wondered, amused by his squeamishness.

"Trust me," he moaned. "Killing things is much easier than this. Although for all I know, I am killing you."

"Can you speed it up a little?" she said, only half-joking.

"No. Now shut up and eat some pears," Katnin grumbled, shoving some dried pears into her hands while he focused on applying another round of leaves.

After three rounds of leaves, which yielded more pus than she had imagined possible, some of the swelling had gone down, and although the wound still ached, it was not as painful as it had been before.

"What next, Dr. Everdeen?" she asked.

Katnin looked slightly more confident. "Maybe I'll put some of the burn ointment on it. I think it helps with infection anyway. And wrap it up?" He pulled out some gauze from the medical kit in his pack and dressed the wound. Then he handed her his jacket, blushing furiously, and pointed at her bra and undershorts. "Here, give me those and cover yourself with this."

"Oh, Katnin, I don't care if you see me," she almost smiled, amused by his embarrassment.

"You're just like the rest of my family," he grumbled, putting the jacket in her hands and turning his back to her. "I care, all right?"

Petra stripped off her remaining clothes and threw them in the river. "You know, you're kind of squeamish for such a lethal person," she commented, watching him beat her clothes clean in the river. "I wish I'd let you give Haymitch a shower after all."

Katnin made a face. "What's he sent you so far?"

"Not a thing," Petra replied. Suddenly, she realized that Katnin must have received something. That burn medicine was way too high caliber. They didn't even have any at the Cornucopia when she was with the Careers. Still, she decided to ask. "Why, did you get something?"

"Burn medicine. Oh, and some bread," he replied sheepishly.

Petra tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I always knew you were his favorite."

"Please, he can't stand being in the same room with me," Katnin said, dismissing the idea.

She thought of their mentor, introverted, rude, and burdened with the pain still left over from his games twenty-four years before. "Because you're just alike."

Katnin didn't respond. Several minutes slipped by, the warm sun lulling her into sleep. The pain, although not gone, had diminished somewhat, and she wanted nothing more than to rest.

By the time she felt something shake her awake, the sun was already sinking in the late afternoon sky. "Petra, we've got to go," Katnin said, nudging at her shoulder.

"Go where?" She didn't want to wake up from her nap and couldn't understand where they were or why they had to move from the comfortable spot.

"Away from here," he answered, pulling her to her feet. "Downstream maybe. Somewhere we can hide until you're stronger."

After helping her dress, Katnin wrapped an arm around her waist and started to lead her out of the muddy bank. However, the second she put weight on her leg, she cried out in pain and nearly collapsed and her knee gave way.

"Come on, you can do this," he encouraged, trying to propel her forward. But she couldn't. Not for long at least. After only about fifty yards, black spots swam in her vision and it was all she could do to keep conscious. Katnin eased her into a sitting position and pushed her head between her knees, all the while rubbing soothing circles on her back.

When Katnin seemed ready to move again, he once again hauled her to her feet. She tried to help him as much as she could, but he ended up having to mostly carry her. At the base of one of the large trees, he dragged her inside a cave-like structure concealed in the rocks.

Inside, she lay still, watching as Katnin began setting up their camp. Although she was still sick and injured, her fortunes had definitely improved. Katnin was here. He had cared enough to come looking for her. And now, despite everything, he was taking care of her, even though his chances of survival were far greater without her.

Petra began to feel something that she'd promised herself back when her name was called during the reaping that she wouldn't allow herself to feel.

Hope.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Apologies, apologies! I haven't updated for nearly three weeks! So much for twice a week. Of course, if I'd known I was going to be this busy, I would have warned you all. I did know I was going on vacation, but I had planned to post this chapter before I left, but then this wasn't done, and I didn't want to put up an author's note or a half-finished chapter just to tell you that I wouldn't be posting for another week.**

**The good news is, however, that I'm done with school! Summer is here, and next year I'm in my last year of High School! Hopefully that means that I'll be able to post more (or at least make my chapters longer) now that school is out. I still have summer homework, though. Yuck.**

**This is a very short chapter, and I am sorry for that. I had to stop it at a weird place because I was having a hard time finding the motivation to finish it after being forced to start and stop working on it so many times. To make it up to everyone who's stuck by this, I'll try to start on the next chapter tonight. I'm crossing my fingers that it will be ready to post by tomorrow or the next day.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Hunger Games.**_

"Katnin," Petra rasped, watching as her new teammate finished setting up their cave. He glanced over at her, the soft light of day fading into twilight filtering in through the cracks in the rocks, highlighting the shadows on his face. "Thanks for finding me."

Crouching down beside her shivering form, Katnin leaned over to smooth her hair away from Petra's forehead. He looked worried. "You would have found me if you could."

"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back-" she started, needing him to understand.

"Don't talk like that," he interrupted her, frown deepening. "I didn't drain all that pus for nothing."

"I know but just in case I don't-" Katnin cut her off, placing a hand over her mouth.

"No, Petra," he argued. "I don't even want to discuss it."

"But I-" she tried again. Before she had time to process it, Katnin leaned forward kissed her. His lips were cool against hers, the fever burning Petra's skin.

The kiss ended as quickly as it had started. Katnin's cheeks were tinged red, but the worried look on his face was unwavering. "You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?"

"All right," she whispered as he tucked the sleeping bag around her before disappearing outside, probably to check their surroundings.

Even as the soft tug of sleep gently spread throughout her, Petra contemplated Katnin's kiss. It had been quick, true, and perhaps not the best of kisses because of its length and the dangerous situation they were in, but it was the first time Petra and Katnin had kissed. There had been a couple of other boys in her life before that, sure. Most, like Petra, were from town, but she remembered one other Seem boy from a few of summers before. His dark hair and pale eyes resembled Katnin's somewhat, and it was for that reason that she had chosen him. Still, she had never gotten Katnin out of her mind. His kiss was the best she had ever received, simply because it was from him.

She was asleep when the feeling of Katnin's lips upon hers woke her up. His face swam into focus above her, his falsely cheery smile unable to hide his worry. "Petra, look what Haymitch has sent you," he said, holding up a small metal pot, clearly a sponsor gift.

So as soon as Katnin joined her, Haymitch suddenly decided to send her something?

Petra's stomach was still twisted and nauseous, but Katnin eventually got all of the soup into her, pleading, coaxing, and kissing her the whole time. By the end, he was tipping the broth down her as she slowly lost consciousness, giving in to the fever that burned its way through her body.

* * *

When she came to, the first thing Petra noticed was that Katnin was not snuggled into the sleeping bag with her, like he had been when she had woken up once during the night. In fact, he was no were to be seen, as the morning light filtered in through the cracks in the walls and lit up the otherwise empty cave.

Trying not to panic, Petra reminded herself that he was probably hunting or getting water. Surely he wasn't captured or dead. Maybe he had decided that she was so close to death that he would be safer without her to tie him down…

Katnin reappeared in the entrance, and she relaxed. "I woke up and you were gone. I was worried about you."

"You were worried about me?" he laughed. "Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"

Petra knew she probably looked like death. At least, she was positive she looked nothing like the girl she was when she gave her interview on the night before the Games. "I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like to hunt at night."

"Clove? Which one is that?"

"The girl from District 2. She's still alive, right?" Petra asked, worried she had missed something.

"Yes, there's just them and us and Thresh and Foxface," he answered. Seeing Petra's confused look, he clarified. "That's what I nicknamed the girl from 5. How do you feel?"

"Better than yesterday," she responded. "This is an enormous improvement over the mud. Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag… and you."

A strange looked crossed over Katnin's face, as if he'd just remembered something. Then he smiled. "No more kisses for you until you've eaten."

Propped up against the rocks as he fed her spoonfuls of berry mush, Petra studied the dark circles under his eyes. "You didn't sleep."

"I'm all right," he mumbled, clearly not.

"Sleep now," Petra prompted. "I'll keep watch. I'll wake you if anything happens. Katnin, you can't stay awake forever," she added at his hesitant look.

After a moment of contemplation, he gave in to her logic. "All right. But just for a few hours. Then you wake me."

Katnin settled down on the floor next to her, using the bag as a mat. He kept one hand on his bow, Petra noticed as she settled down more comfortably next to him. She ran her fingers through his hair in a rhythmic, soothing motion, coaxing his eyes closed.

She did not stop, even long after he was asleep.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Well, I guess you can't trust me when I tell you that the next chapter should be written soon. A ton of my family is up, and between that and work, I've been super busy all week. Thanks to everyone who is still sticking with me and this story, and special thanks for reviews and favorite/alert notices. You are the ones that keep me working on this story.**

**I should also admit that my interest in **_**The Hunger Games**_** is wavering because I have a new fandom that I am currently obsessed with. Don't worry, I won't abandon this fic, and I'll probably still write sequels if you all want them, but it has been taking me longer to get myself motivated to write the next chapter. I've also found a new site that is much better for stories about my new fandom, and I'm thinking about writing some stuff for that site. Of course, it'll be genderswap. I don't know why, but I find it amusing to genderswap my favorite male characters. In addition, the changes to are starting to irritate me. I hate it when websites change the format around, unless the new changes are necessary to make the site better. **

**As always, I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**. **

Even the extreme heat of daytime in the Arena was nothing compared to the fire of the fever coursing through Petra's body. She could feel her body temperature rising, causing her head to burn and her stomach to twist and reject the little water she tried to ingest before she realized that she was not going to be able to keep anything down. The throbbing in her leg only served as a reminder of how little time she had left, each pulse ticking away another moment of her life.

The hope from the day before was gone, and Petra accepted what she had known from the beginning and prepared for since she had been injured: she was going to die. Even with Katnin's help, she was not going to last long without some serious medication, the kind that could only be found in the Capitol. The only comfort was that at least Katnin was with her, still in fighting shape, with a chance of winning and going home.

Looking over at his sleeping face, she had to smile. Although he did not exactly look comfortable, his face had lost the weary, hardened look that it had taken on ever since his father's death. Petra lightly smoothed a hand across his sweaty brow and settled down to watch for threats, silently starting to say her good-byes to the world she knew.

* * *

Despite the fact that Katnin had ordered her to wake him up after a couple of hours, Petra let him sleep all through the afternoon, knowing that it was important for him to get as much sleep as he could while nothing was happening. She wasn't sure how much use she would be to him in the future. Her vision was already fuzzy around the edges, and the faint ringing in her ears blocked out some of the faint noises from the forest surrounding them.

When Katnin finally woke, the sun was already starting to sink in the afternoon sky. He was annoyed, scolding her for not waking him up. "Petra, you were supposed to wake me up after a couple of hours."

"For what?" she replied. "Nothing's going on here. Besides I like watching you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot."

He scowled at that, making Petra smile. The action caused the already parched skin on her lips to crack even more, which brought Katnin's attention to her current condition. His hand was freezing against her forehead, or maybe it was just her skin that was overheated. Even though she told him that she had been drinking, he didn't seem to believe her, standing watch while she made her way through one bottle of water and a couple of fever pills.

The minor wounds covering her body showed major improvement as Katnin tended to them, but Petra knew even before he unwrapped the bandaging on her leg that the wound has gotten much worse. Sure enough, the fluid-streaked gauze fell away to reveal the inflamed, shiny skin crisscrossed with angry red streaks that Petra recognized to be a sign of blood poisoning.

"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," Katnin chirped, but the shaking in his voice gave him away.

Annoyed that he wasn't being honest with either of them, Petra snarled at him. "I know what blood poisoning is, Katnin. Even if my mother isn't a healer."

His face looked frightened. "You're just going to have to outlast the others, Petra. They'll cure it back in the Capitol when we win."

Despite her doubts at his plan, she nodded, unwilling to spoil his shaky hope. "That's a good plan."

"You have to eat. Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup," he said.

"Don't light a fire," she told him. "It's not worth it."

"We'll see," he replied, slipping out the door and taking some of their supplies with him.

* * *

Despite Katnin checking in on her constantly while cooking the soup, Petra's health deteriorated rapidly as the day passed. Fever burned through her, giving everything a strange edge to it. A cool cloth was placed on her skin and Katnin's face appeared above her, bathed in a strange grey light that matched his eyes exactly. Even the green canopy of trees above them danced with a mystic green light as creatures unknown to her darted in and out of the branches.

Much later in the afternoon, when Katnin asked if she needed anything, she could only think of how much she wanted his company at the moment. His face twisted at her strange request for him to tell her a story, but then he launched into the tale of how he got his younger brother a goat for his birthday.

She focused all of her energy on paying attention to his words, trying to paint a picture of his story and using it to remember home, from the marketplace where the old man sold his goats to the ratty houses where Katnin lived on the Seam. When she interrupted him to ask a question, Katnin started, as if he had forgotten her presence, and she realized that he had been as lost in his own memories as she was.

When he finished talking, there was a couple minutes of silence, both trying to reorient themselves to the fact that they were fighting for their lives in an arena for the entertainment of the Capitol, not back at home in the (relative) safety of their homes in District 12.

The sound of the trumpet came just after Katnin was feeling her forehead and pronounced that her skin was feeling a little cooler, which Petra knew was a blatant lie.

The voice booming over the Arena loudspeakers was that of Claudius Templesmith. He was inviting them to a feast, something that Petra had seen happen a couple of times over her years of watching the Games. Since neither of them was hungry, Katnin actually waved a hand to dismiss the offer when Templesmith spoke again. "Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

On that note, his voice stopped, leaving a heavy silence in the air as Petra and Katnin both caught up with his words. Fear instantly gripped her as she noticed Katnin's determined face, knowing that he would try to get the medicine that was surely going to be in their bag at the Cornucopia.

"No," she hissed, tugging at his shoulders from behind. "You're not risking your life for me."

"Who says I was?" Katnin retorted.

Unconvinced, Petra glared at him. "So, you're not going?"

"Of course I'm not going. Give me some credit. Do you think I'm running straight into some free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don't be stupid. I'll let them fight it out, we'll see who's in the sky tomorrow night and work out a plan from there," he told her while helping her to bed.

"You're such a bad liar, Katnin. I don't know how you've survived this long," Petra snapped, and then began to mimic him. "_I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going._"

"All right, I am going, and you can't stop me!" Anger turned his face a deep scarlet.

"I can follow you," she retorted. "At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I'm yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And then I'll be dead for sure."

"You won't get a hundred yards from here on that leg," he said.

"Then I'll drag myself," she promised. "You go and I'm going, too."

"What am I supposed to do?" he sighed, frustrated. "Sit here and watch you die?"

"I won't die. I promise. If you promise not to go."

He seemed to know that it wouldn't do any good to argue with her. "Then you have to do what I say. Drink your water, wake me when I tell you, and eat every bite of soup no matter how disgusting it is!"

"Agreed. Is it ready?" she asked.

"Wait here." He disappeared out the cave entrance. When he returned, he was holding the pot of soup.

Although Petra wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week, Katnin forced her sit up as he spoon-fed her bits of the soup he had spent the day cooking. She was slightly delusional from sickness and the soup was easy on her stomach, and it was for those reasons that she rambled on about how delicious it was to him even as she swallowed every bite of the culinary disaster.

After the soup, Katnin headed back outside to prepare his own dinner and to wash up. When he returned, he was smiling excitedly and holding a bowl of mashed up fruit and mint leaves.

"I've brought you a treat," he said, holding the container up for her inspection. "I found a new patch of berries a little farther downstream."

Remembering her promise to do what he told her, she opened her mouth for the first bite. The sweet taste startled her. "They're very sweet," she commented.

"Yes, they're sugar berries," he replied while putting another spoonful in her mouth. "My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you ever heard of them before?"

Petra hasn't, but she knows that Katnin's knowledge of plants is far more extensive than her own. Still, "sugar berries" sounds odd to her, and the taste is somewhat familiar. "No. But they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"

"Well, you can't get them in the market much, they only grow wild," he said, nodding knowingly as he fed her the last bit.

"They're sweet as syrup," she noted, before realization hit. "Syrup!"

Her eyes widened and she began to struggle against him as she recognized the taste of the sleeping syrup used at home, barely concealed by the taste of the berries and mint. Katnin clamped his hand over her mouth and nose, forcing her to swallow. Even as she tried to vomit the medicine back up, she could already feel herself being dragged into unconsciousness. The last image she had of Katnin was his apologetic face, and knowing that he was probably going to get himself killed very soon for her sake.

Then everything went dark.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Once again, I am apologizing for two things that I seem to apologize for a lot. One is taking way too long to write this chapter, and the other is for making this chapter so short. This scene is so long in the book and involves so much dialogue that I'm posting it as several smaller chapters. I wanted to get this first part out. I've been having trouble writing because, after spending all day babysitting (my summer job) and doing AP English and Physics summer homework, I have trouble wrangling enough functioning brain cells together to form a sentence, much less an entire chapter. So once again, I apologize for taking so long in between updates.**

**Thank you all for your sweet reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. To answer your questions:**

**Guest- Yes, this fic is going to be cannon with the books. I do intend for Petra and Katnin's actions and feelings to be (mostly) the same as Peeta and Katniss's actions and feelings in the book. **

** . .Attic- I don't know if I'll do Catching Fire and Mockingjay. I do kind of have some ideas/plans for Catching Fire in my head already, but I haven't started anything yet. If I don't do them, though, I would love for this to be continued by someone else. The Hunger Games fandom needs more genderswap! What I think I'm going to do is try to write a few chapters of Catching Fire before I post anything. If I do decide to write the whole fic than great. If not, I'd be happy to pass along all of my notes and drafts to anyone who wants to write it. If anyone is willing, just PM me a message, letting me know!**

**One last thing, I just joined Tumblr and am writing a fic with my friend that will be posted there. I have the same name, childofdarkdefiance, so check it out! It's an Avengers fic, but Tumblr is still a good way to get in touch with me. I'm willing to answer questions and take requests on both Fanfiction and Tumblr (Tumblr may actually be better, even though I'm still only setting mine up). **

**Wow. Long author's note is long. (This is brought to you by the Department of Redundancy Department.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.**

The first thing Petra was aware of as she came to was that her body felt better than it had since Cato injured her. There was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead left behind from her broken fever, and the ringing in her ears and the fuzziness in her vision had all but vanished. Even her leg, although a little stiff and sore, felt as if she might be able to put some of her weight on it in order to walk.

The question of her sudden miraculous recovery was answered as soon as she glanced at Katnin. He was passed out a few feet from her, lying in a deep scarlet puddle of blood, a needle and a small bag marked with the number 12 next to him. For one terrifying moment, Petra thought he was dead, until a quick check of his wrist revealed his faint pulse.

Petra crawled over to their bag of supplies, snatching up all of their bottles of water and a few strips of her damaged shirt. Making her way over to Katnin's unconscious form, she knelt down by his head and uncapped one of the bottles of water.

The sticky red liquid began to clear as she poured the water over his head, looking for the source of the blood. It didn't take long before the large gash across his forehead was visible. It didn't look too deep, but it had bled a lot. Katnin's face was ghostly white from the loss. Petra used some of the gauze to carefully dab away at the wound before disinfecting and dressing it. The remaining water was used to gently rinse the matted blood from his dark hair. Katnin was shivering, and Petra pulled off his wet boots and socks before draping the sleeping bag over him.

Satisfied that she had done all she could to help her teammate until he woke up, Petra decided to attend to her own needs. Her appetite rekindled, she practically inhaled three pieces of groosling before realizing that she needed to conserve the food. A gamemaker-engineered downpour had started up, and there was no telling how long it would continue. No doubt it would be impossible to hunt and search for food with the steady sheet of water drenching the Arena. The best she was able to do was refill the bottles.

The roof of the cave was leaking generously in several places, the droplets running together to create one growing puddle on the floor of their shelter. Searching through the bag, Petra pulled out several square feet of plastic. She then spent the better part of an hour plugging up holes and fixing the plastic to make the roof more waterproof.

With nothing left to do but keep watch, Petra settled down next to Katnin and wondered what had happened at the feast, if anyone had died. The storm was probably a result of something that was happening elsewhere in the Arena, but she couldn't imagine what it was.

More than half a day later, Katnin groaned in his sleep, drawing Petra's attention back to him. She tucked the sleeping bag more firmly around him and began softly stroking his cheek, wanting to sooth him, but also searching for the comfort of friendly human contact. Grey eyes fluttered open and alarm flashed across Katnin's face.

"Katnin?" Petra asked. "Katnin can you hear me?"

Recognition flashed across Katnin's pale face. "Petra."

"Hey." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good to see your eyes open again."

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Not sure," Petra replied. "I woke up yesterday evening and you were lying next to me in a very scary pool of blood. I think it's stopped finally, but I wouldn't sit up or anything."

Katnin raised a hand to his head, gingerly poking at the bandaging. Noticing how weak the gesture was, Petra tenderly helped him raise his head slightly to keep him from choking while she held a bottle of water to his lips.

"You're better," he commented when he finished drinking.

"Much better. Whatever you shot into my arm did the trick. By this morning, all the swelling in my leg was gone."

"Did you eat?" Katnin changed the subject.

"I'm sorry to say I gobbled down three pieces of that groosling before I realized that it might have to last a while. Don't worry, I'm back on a strict diet," she half-joked.

"No, it's good. You need to eat. I'll go hunting soon," he assured her.

"Not too soon, all right? You just let me take care of you for a while," Petra ordered, and Katnin had no choice but to obey.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Very short chapter once again, and I'm so sorry about the delay! I've hit the August homework panic, where my summer AP homework isn't done. I need to have it finished, or I get kicked out of the classes. I also spent a lot of time practicing to get my license. Seventeen and a half and I still didn't have it. But I passed, so that's one less thing to worry about.**

**It might be another couple of weeks before I post again. I really have to get this work done. **

**Thank you all for sticking with me! And special thanks for the favorites and alerts, as well as the wonderful reviews. They inspire me to keep writing. I wasn't planning on writing and posting this chapter this morning, but I've neglected you all for way too long.**

**A Fire in the Attic, I would be thrilled if you wanted to continue this story after I'm done. I am going to try to do the second book, but I don't know if I'll be able to do it. School starts pretty soon, and my classes are super hard, not to mention I have to do all of my college applications. I'll try to write a few chapters, and if it doesn't work out, I'll pass along what I have for notes in case you still want to do the story and have use for them.**

**Until next time, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_**.**

Petra made sure that she stayed true to her promise to Katnin. Determined to make up for all of the time he had spent caring for her, Petra spent the day feeding him bites of groosling and raisins and making sure that he drank water. She massaged his stiff muscles and rubbed warmth back into his icy feet before wrapping them in her own jacket.

"Your boots and socks are still damp and the weather's not helping much," she explained as she tucked the sleeping bag up around his chin. The rain and thunder provided a steady background noise as lightning lit up their otherwise dark shelter.

More than an hour passed before she spoke. "I wonder what brought on this storm? I mean, who's the target?"

"Cato and Thresh," Katnin responded, snapping out of his reverie. "Foxface will be in her den somewhere, and Clove… she cut me and then…"

"I know Clove's dead," Petra interrupted gently when he trailed off. "I saw it in the sky last night. Did you kill her?"

"No. Thresh broker her skull with a rock." He winced at the memory.

"Lucky he didn't catch you, too," she shuddered, imagining Katnin, lying in a pool of his own blood, much like how she had found him when she woke up. Only in her imagination, Katnin's eyes where open, glassy, staring blankly while the Capitol people removed his body from the Arena while all of Panem watched.

"He did. But he let me go," Katnin corrected, beginning to explain everything that had happened since the reaping, from exploding the Career's supplies and going deaf in one ear as a result, and Rue's and Marvel's deaths, and the bread that had been sent to Katnin from Rue's district after Katnin had finished giving Rue as much of a burial as she was going to get in the Arena.

Still, Petra couldn't quite understand. "He let you go because he didn't want to owe you anything?"

"Yes. I don't expect you to understand it. You've always had enough. But if you'd lived in the Seam, I wouldn't have to explain," he snapped. Petra thought he was being a bit unfair. How would he know what her life had been like growing up? He had never bothered to find out.

"And don't try," she snarled back, not wanting to fight, but also not unable to let the comment slide. "Obviously I'm too dim to get it."

"It's the bread. How I never seem to get over owing you for that," Katnin explained, waving his hands a little in exasperation.

The fight drained out of Petra, giving way to curiosity and confusion. "The bread? What? From when we were kids? I think we can let that go. I mean, you just brought me back from the dead."

"But you didn't know me," Katnin said. "We had never even spoken. Besides, it's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back. I wouldn't even have been here to do it if you hadn't helped me then." His voice softened. "Why did you, anyway?"

Petra stared at him. Didn't she announce to all of Panem that she was in love with him? "Why? You know why." He shook his head, and she sighed. "Haymitch said you would take a lot of convincing."

"Haymitch?" Katnin looked confused. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Nothing," Petra sighed, deciding it was best just to drop the subject rather than try to explain her pre-interview conversation with Haymitch. "So, Cato and Thresh huh? I guess it's too much to hope that they'll simultaneously destroy each other?"

"I think we would like Thresh," Katnin said, looking upset. "I think he'd be our friend back in District 12."

_In another world, maybe,_ Petra thought. _Not this one._ But all she says is, "Then let's hope Cato kills him, so we don't have to."

Tears pool in his eyes, making him look much younger and more terrified than he had before. He seemed to be trying not to let her, or at least whoever else might be watching them, see his moment of weakness. Concerned more for his feelings than what the audience would think of him, Petra slid forward and smoothed her hand across his bandaged forehead. "What is it? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"I want to go home, Petra," Katnin whispered, looking vulnerable for the first time since the moment when his brother's name rang from the garishly colored lips of Effie Trinket. He looked most like the time when Petra had seen him, crouched behind the bakery, starving and so very close to giving up.

"You will. I promise," she leaned in, giving him a comforting kiss.

"I want to go home now," he elaborated, not looking at all comforted by her affections.

"Tell you what," she said, making sure to stare directly in her eyes and make her face as soft and open as possible. "You go back to sleep and dream of home. And you'll be there for real before you know it. Okay?"

"Okay," he whispered. "Wake me if you need me to keep watch," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"I'm good and rested, thanks to you and Haymitch," Petra reassured him, already planning not to wake him up unless it was absolutely necessary. "Besides, how long will this last?"

Petra was asking about the storm, but as soon as the words were past her lips, she realized her question could mean a number of things. Their brief rest in the cave? The Games themselves? At any rate Katnin didn't seem to have an answer for her. He was already asleep.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**I apologize for forgetting about this fic for a while. Senior year has been crazy busy, what with all of the college stuff on top of my regular work. Thanks, everyone, for sticking with me though! I promise this will be finished, no matter how long it takes me. I have no idea when I can update again, but I'm hoping that with my four-day weekend coming up, I can write another chapter. No promises, though, because I'm also retaking the SATs this weekend.**

**It's a short chapter, but at least it's something.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own **_**The Hunger Games**_

Petra held out on eating for as long as possible, despite her growling stomach. The rain had been drumming steadily on the roof of the cave all day long, and she could tell they would not be able to go out and gather food until the downpour stopped. There wasn't much left in their stash of food, and even that wouldn't be good for much longer.

By the time she shook Katnin awake, afternoon was just turning to evening. He blinked confusedly at her from a moment, looking much younger and more vulnerable than he ever did when fully awake.

"We have to eat something," she told him, noting that his stomach was also growling. She glanced at their meager supply of food. "Should we try and ration it?"

Katnin shook his head. "No, let's just finish it. The groosling's getting old anyway, and the last thing we need is to get sick off spoiled food." He divided the food into two equal piles. As much as she tried to stretch the meal out to feel like she was eating more than she was, they both finished in a couple of minutes. Neither was in no way satisfied.

"Tomorrow's a hunting day," Katnin announced.

"I won't be much help with that," Petra told him. "I've never hunted before." In fact, the image of her trying to shoot something with a bow and arrow was laughable.

"I'll kill and you cook," he replied. "And you can always gather." Well, that did sound like something she could do.

"I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there," she said, wistfully, remembering the fresh-baked bread smell of back home, the way the dough felt squishing through her fingers. Her mouth watered instantly.

Katnin seemed to share her sentiments. "The bread they sent me from District 11 was still warm," he sighed before reaching into his pack and pulling out some mint leaves. "Here, chew these."

The mint tasted fine, although it did not do anything to satisfy her hunger. They chewed silently for a while before Katnin spoke up again. "Where did Thresh go? I mean, what's on the far side of the circle?"

"A field," she answered, trying to remember how everything had looked during her brief stay with the Careers. "As far as you can see it's full of grasses as high as my shoulders. I don't know, maybe some of them are grain. There are patches of different colors. But there are no paths."

"I bet some of them are grain. I bet Thresh knows which ones, too. Did you go in there?"

"No," she said. "Nobody really wanted to track Thresh down in that grass. It has a sinister feeling to it. Every time I look at that field, all I can think of are hidden things. Snakes, and rabid animals, and quicksand. There could be anything in there."

He was silent for so long, Petra thought he'd dropped the subject, until he spoke again. "Maybe there is a bread bush in that field. Maybe that's why Thresh looks better fed now than when we started the Games."

"Either that or he's got very generous sponsors," she remarked, also contemplating how Thresh was managing to not only survive, but thrive in the Arena. "I wonder what we'd have to do to get Haymitch to send us some bread."

Petra didn't understand the strange look Katnin was giving her. "Well, he probably used a lot of resources helping me knock you out."

Oh yeah. She still hadn't talked to him about running off against her wishes to get her the medicine. "Yeah, about that," she said, reaching for his hand, as if that could make him stay with her. "Don't try something like that again."

"Or what?" he teased.

"Or… or…" Damn, he had her there. "Just give me a minute."

"What's the problem?" Katnin asked, grinning outright.

"The problem is we're both still alive. Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing." She winced at how much she sounded like an overprotective mother scolding her child.

"I did do the right thing," he argued.

"No!" she snapped. "Just don't, Katnin!" She tightened her grip on his hand and felt the brief surge of anger leave her. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"

He looked confused and perhaps even a little startled. "Maybe I did it for myself, Petra, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who… who worries about… what it would be like if…" He seemed to be struggling with the words.

"If what, Katnin?" she prompted him, gently.

He seemed on the verge of saying something, but his cheeks turned pink and he looked away. "That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of."

"Then I guess I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," she said, leaning in to kiss him. He is still for a few moments before he responded, kissing her back. It would have been the perfect kiss, except when they broke apart Petra noticed the dribble of blood starting to bead up along the recently uncovered head wound. "I think your wound is bleeding again," she told him, stopping him just as he was leaning in for another kiss. "Come on, lie down, it's bedtime anyway."

She handed him his now-dry socks and he gave her back her jacket. She had been trying not to show how cold she was, especially without the jacket. Katnin volunteered for first watch, but Petra insisted that he climb in the sleeping bag with her. It was freezing enough that he didn't object. As soon as he was next to her she curled up against him, trying to soak up as much of his presence as she could. She fell asleep with her body snuggled next to his and her head on his chest, feeling confident that she was safe with him.


	20. Another author's note

**I'm so sorry everyone (and now even more sorry because this isn't a new chapter, just an author's note). It has been a crazy busy past few months, and to be honest, I kind of forgot about this story for a while. I can't make any promises, but I really do hate to leave things unfinished, so I'm still going to try to finish these last few chapters. It probably won't be this week (work and finals and more scholarship applications, gross) but vacation is the week after so maybe sometime in the next couple of weeks I'll have a new chapter for you. Thank you to everyone who's still with me, I apologize again about the ridiculously long wait. If you're still out there, it would be nice to know if you're still interested (or if anyone is still interested in writing a sequel), but after not giving you all an update in so long, I don't expect anyone should feel obligated to drop me a message.**

**Thanks again, my lovelies! **


	21. Chapter Nineteen

**Apologies, because this chapter is not worth the seven months it took me to write it. After several switches in interests, it was hard to get myself back into writing this, and it's not as good as it could be. I think I need to do some rereading or I need to watch the movie again to remember what happened, because it's all a little fuzzy. It's hard to get motivated after putting this off for so long, but at least it's here now!**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me for this long. I promise I won't leave you hanging.**

Petra woke to Katnin's apologetic gaze as he roused her, promising that he'd find a newer, safer place for them to sleep the next day so they wouldn't have to rest in shifts any more. Even as he spoke his eyes were unfocused, eyelids drooping, and she silently agreed that they wouldn't be able to keep this up forever.

Unfortunately, the next day brought about no changes in the weather. The hunger pains in her stomach were almost enough to make her head outside anyways, but Katnin convinced her that her quest would be futile. All of the animals would be tucked away, and besides, she wouldn't be able to see through the thick sheets of water pouring down. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

The day was spent mostly in silence, both too hungry and tired to do much more than sit around, wishing for home. Even wrapped together in the sleeping bag, they're cold, and the short naps they take don't really help with the exhaustion, but they have nothing better to do.

A couple of times, Petra wondered if Katnin was planning something. A thoughtful look would occasionally cross his thin, pale face, and he sometimes he would give her a look, as if he were assessing her, or about to say something, but he made no move to until later on in the evening.

"Petra." His raspy voice startled her, as it was one of the few times either of them had spoken that day. The look was back on his face, but it was twisted, somehow. She didn't know what to make of it.

"You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?" he persisted, not seeming to notice her surprised look at his sudden curiosity.

"Oh let's see. I guess the first day of school," she started, deciding that no matter how unprovoked the question, she was grateful for the conversation. "We were five. You were wearing red plaid, and your hair was neater than all the other boys. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up."

"Your father? Why?" He sounded surprised.

She leaned back, settling into her memories, that warm day at the start of her first school year. "He said, 'See that little boy? I wanted to marry his mother, but she ran off with a coal miner.'"

Disbelief crossed his face. "What? You're making that up!"

"No, true story," she insisted. "And I said, 'A coal miner?' Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen.'"

"That's true," Katnin agreed, voice soft. "They do. I mean, they did."

Petra pressed on. "So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent."

"Oh, please," he laughed.

"It's true," she insisted. "And right when your song ended, I knew—just like your mother—I was a goner. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you."

"Without success," he added.

"Without success," she agreed. "So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck."

When she glanced over, he was smiling, a different smile from any she had seen so far. It was a little bittersweet, but perhaps talking about home, about better times, had helped to ease a little of the worry off of his shoulders.

"You have a… remarkable memory," he finally said. She wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting him to say, but it wasn't that.

"I remember everything about you," she told him, a little hurt, even as she smoothed his hair away from his face. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

He leaned into the touch a little. "I am now."

Petra smiled, trying to lighten her own mood a little. "Well, I don't have much competition here."

He hesitated for a moment, as if trying to say something. "You don't have much competition anywhere." And with that he leaned in, pressing his lips lightly against hers.

They'd just barely touched when a clunking noise captured both of their attentions. Katnin is immediately defensive, but when nothing happened, Petra crawled closer and peered up through the rocks. The silver parachute and basket sat innocently in front of the entrance.

Unable to contain her excitement, she sprinted out into the rain, water soaking into her hair and clothes even from the brief contact. She handed the package to Katnin, who ripped it open, revealing the feast inside. The smells emitting from the basket were almost tangible, capturing her empty, aching stomach's attention.

"I guess Haymich finally got tired of watching us starve."

"I guess so." He sounded doubtful, but she didn't really care too much about the motivations or reasons behind the gift, not when there was plenty of food right there, in front of her.

Once again, Petra began to hope.


End file.
